Restarting Life: Back From the Dead novel Chapter 9

The bar pulsed with an overwhelming beat, the music almost vibrating through every inch of the crowded room. Beneath the swirling, multicolored lights that flickered like a kaleidoscope, a throng of dancers moved together, lost in the hypnotic rhythm of the night. The air was thick with energy, a mix of sweat, perfume, and the faint scent of spilled drinks.

Sebastian stood apart from the chaos, leaning casually against the polished wooden bar. In his hand, he idly rotated the glass of amber liquid, watching the ice clink softly. His eyes flicked down to the phone in his other hand, the screen still glowing with the aftermath of a call he had just ended. His brow furrowed deeply, a shadow of frustration crossing his face.

It struck him as strange that Felicia hadn’t returned his call. He knew, with a sinking certainty, that her promise to “bury the hatchet” was nothing but a hollow lie. Everything she had said was a carefully woven deception, and yet, despite this, his fingers tapped nervously on the phone’s surface, betraying a restless anxiety beneath his composed exterior.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed against the backdrop of the pounding music. Sebastian hesitated, waiting for the ringing to start, before he answered with a calm that barely masked his irritation. “Felicia, I already told you—I’m not going back. I don’t care what you have to say. I’m going to make sure you pay for this for the rest of your life. Do you understand me? Or have you cooked up some new scheme to fool me again? I won’t be fooled.”

There was a long silence on the other end before a cautious voice finally spoke. “Mr. Fuller, are you Ms. Felicia Lane’s husband? We found her body near the river by North Brook Bridge. According to the autopsy, she was in the late stages of cancer. She must have known her time was short, so she took her own life. Please come to the North District Bureau to identify her.”

The words hit Sebastian like a thunderclap. He stood frozen, unable to process what he had just been told. It felt as if the ground had vanished beneath him, leaving only a dizzying void.

After several agonizing seconds, he bit down hard on his tongue, the sharp pain causing blood to trickle into his mouth. The metallic taste was a stark reminder that this was no dream. Struggling to steady his voice, he stammered, “W-Who is this? Why should I believe you? Just because you say you’re the police? Felicia… she called me not long ago. This has to be some kind of joke.”

A bitter, disbelieving laugh escaped him. “Oh, I get it. You’re just some actor she hired for this cruel prank, right? How much did she pay you to put on this show? Tell you what—I’ll double it if you stop this nonsense.”

The officers who had handled the case couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Felicia. No one was willing to claim her body. There she lay, motionless and quiet, as if in a deep, eternal sleep. Her once full cheeks had hollowed, and her skin was as pale as the cold river water where she was found.

She had wasted away to a fragile shadow of herself, her bones barely covered by thin, fragile skin. Even her hair, once vibrant and full, now hung lifeless and dull.

The light that used to shine from within her had vanished completely. Looking upon her now, all anyone could do was sigh softly, mourning the loss of the woman she had been.