The Secret Heir Return To Wealth And Love novel Chapter 1914

Chapter 1914 

Larkin and the Prior were talking outside, and Erica was wide awake. 

Listening to the Prior’s vague murmuring, Erica felt like she was being tortured. 

After a while, the Prior left and the door was pushed open. 

Larkin was back. 

Seeing that she was awake, he rushed over, sitting by her side. 

He asked, “Are you feeling okay?” 

Curling up with her knees, Erica shook her head slightly, “Larkin, I just wanted to help somebody. Why did Mary have to die because of my goodwill?” 

“It was an accident…” Larkin whispered, trying to comfort her. 

“It wasn’t an accident.” Erica said, her face pale, shaking her head again, if I hadn’t helped Madeleine Winters, or… if I had taken Mary away from the monastery the last time, Mary wouldn’t have died.” 

After saying this, she looked at Larkin, tears welling up, “It was me! I killed Mary!” 

She couldn’t control the pain in her heart anymore and started crying loudly. 

Larkin quickly hugged her, “It wasn’t you… It’s not your fault… 

Erica didn’t know if she heard him, she continued to cry her heart out. 

Until it started getting dark, Martin came to tell them that tonight was the last memorial service for Mary and asked if Erica and Larkin wanted to attend. 

Erica finally stood up and washed her face.. 

With Larkin’s company, she returned to the place for mourning Mary. 

All the monks and nuns in the monastery were there. 

Everyone stood silently, singing hymns for Mary together. 

Erica stood in a corner. 

Looking at Mary’s small portrait, tears kept rolling down her face. 

Larkin stood by her side, joining others in singing hymns for Mary 

As the night deepened, then the sky gradually lit up with the first light of dawn, the last night’s memorial service ended. 

Mary didn’t have any family. 

In the end, the small urn was placed into the monastery’s mourning hall. 

When the Prior put the urn in, he wiped it over and over with a clean handkerchief, then carefully placed it in. 

Afterwards, the monks and nuns in the monastery left one after another, leaving only Erica and her husband. 

Erica walked closer. 

In the mourning hall, there were small compartments, and on the door of each compartment, there was a photo of the deceased. Mary’s photo was her ID picture. 

Erica reached out, lightly touching it 

There were so many things she wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask. 

She wanted to ask if Mary was scared, if she was in pain, if she blamed her 

But when the words reached her lips, she couldn’t say anything