Restarting Life: Back From the Dead novel Chapter 10

The police officer felt utterly powerless in the face of the situation. They made several additional calls, sending messages and photos to various contacts, hoping someone would come forward. But beyond that, they could only wait and leave the outcome to chance.

If no one came to claim Felicia’s body, the authorities would be forced to proceed with cremation—a final step they wished to avoid.

“Poor girl,” one officer murmured, shaking his head with a mixture of frustration and sadness. “Neither her parents nor her husband have stepped forward to collect her remains. I just don’t understand what’s going through their minds. After all the explanations we’ve given, why won’t they believe us?”

Sebastian’s expression darkened as he stared at the images and messages on his phone. His grip tightened so fiercely around the device that it seemed as if he might crush it in his fist.

Seeing Felicia’s lifeless form was chilling—almost impossible to accept. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, the harsh truth was staring him in the face.

A surge of panic bubbled up inside him, tightening his jaw as he fought back the rising despair.

“Felicia,” he muttered through clenched teeth, “is this some kind of trick? Faking your death again? Don’t think that just because you pulled this stunt, I’ll suddenly forget everything and forgive you. You’re going to regret this. I’ll expose you for the fraud you are. But you’d better stay dead this time.”

Without waiting for a response, he stormed out and hailed a taxi, directing the driver toward the North District Bureau.

Meanwhile, Felicia’s parents received the same messages and photos simultaneously. A deep, inexplicable dread settled over their hearts.

“No, it can’t be true,” they whispered to each other in disbelief. “Felicia is still alive. She must be pretending. This has to be some kind of act.”

Despite their desperate attempts to convince themselves otherwise, the grim reality forced them to prepare to visit the police bureau.

Sebastian and Felicia’s parents arrived nearly simultaneously. After verifying their identities, a police officer led them to the morgue.

Beneath a stark white sheet lay Felicia’s motionless body, her face pale and devoid of life. There was no heartbeat, no breath—her form cold and rigid as if frozen in time.

But now, with Felicia’s death, the words she had spoken two weeks ago—about burying the hatchet—felt hauntingly real.

Only then did Sebastian fully grasp, with painful clarity, how deeply she had deceived him over the past fortnight.

He had come close to discovering her illness, yet she had steadfastly denied it, choosing to suffer in silence rather than share her pain.

Felicia was dead. Their quarrels, their grudges, all meaningless now.

And yet, Sebastian felt no relief, no sense of victory. Instead, a heavy sorrow washed over him, constricting his chest, making each breath a struggle.

She was gone. Her death brought her peace at last, but left behind a void filled with endless pain for those left behind.