The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1053

Later that night, Danielle's sleep was fitful. In a half-conscious state, her head throbbed as if a thousand tiny needles were pricking at her temples, the pain growing with each pulse. With great effort, she opened her eyes to the pitch-black bedroom. She turned her head, trying to focus on the city lights in the distance to distract from the headache. Just then, in the corner of her eye, she caught a tiny red dot glowing in the garden below. Danielle's heart skipped a beat. She held her breath, staring at the spot. But after a second, the red dot vanished as if it had never been there. She blinked, rubbing her tired, gritty eyes. Maybe it was just the alcohol making her see things. She was probably just exhausted lately, to the point of hallucinating.

Her headache intensified, and her throat felt painfully dry. Danielle threw back the covers and padded barefoot across the cold floor toward the living room, wanting a glass of water. Just as she reached her bedroom door, she heard a faint sound from outside—the soft shuffle of footsteps. The steps were light, yet in the dead silence of the night, they were unnervingly clear, as if someone was slowly pacing in the hallway. Danielle froze, her body going rigid. She pressed her ear against the wooden door, not daring to breathe too loudly. The footsteps grew closer, seeming to stop right outside her apartment. She could even hear the faint whisper of fabric rubbing together. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a drum, and a cold sweat broke out on her palms. She held her breath, her eyes glued to the doorknob, terrified it would begin to turn. But after a few minutes, the footsteps slowly receded, eventually disappearing down the hall until there was only silence.

Leaning against the door, Danielle let out a slow breath, her back drenched in cold sweat. It was probably just the alcohol, she thought, heightening her senses and making her paranoid. She opened the door, hurried to the living room, and poured herself a glass of water. The cool liquid soothed her dry throat and throbbing head, clearing some of the fog from her mind. Standing in the living room, she glanced around. Everything was exactly as she'd left it before going to bed. Danielle set the glass down and turned to go back to her room. But just as she reached the doorway, a sudden cold draft swept in, causing the white sheer curtains by the window to billow gently in the air. For a chilling moment, it looked like the hem of a coat, whisked aside by an unseen hand.

Danielle's heart clenched. She snapped her head toward the window. There was nothing there, only the curtains swaying in the breeze. But she distinctly remembered shutting the window and checking the lock before bed. How could it possibly be open? Or had she been so drunk she'd forgotten? She walked quickly to the window, her hand trembling as she touched the cold frame. A shiver ran through her. Danielle's gaze swept across the dark corners of the bedroom. The closet door was shut, the vanity was tidy, and nothing looked disturbed. Even so, a deep chill crept up from the soles of her feet, slithering up her spine and making her skin crawl. She slammed the window shut, locked it, and then checked it again and again, making sure it was secure before finally stepping back. But the feeling of unease only grew stronger.

Back in bed, Danielle found it impossible to sleep.