The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 140

Deep down, Raffy was convinced that after Danielle left Dad, she'd be penniless.

After all, she didn't have a job. How could she possibly have money?

His own mom and dad had plenty, and as far as he was concerned, money could buy anything.

Danielle stared at the shattered action figure pieces on the floor, her eyes icy and detached. Raffy's childish, grating voice kept ringing in her ears.

Julia, standing nearby, quickly jumped in to smooth things over. "Ma'am, young master doesn't always think before he speaks. Please don't take it to heart."

"Raffy, say sorry to your mom. Now."

Raffy snorted, cold and defiant. "Why should I apologize? She's the one who needs me now."

Sooner or later, she'd be begging him to let her cook and do his laundry. She'd always taken over the household chores to keep her place as Mom, and Dad would reward her with money for it. Once she ran out of cash, she'd come crawling back for sure.

Danielle lifted her gaze, looking at the unfamiliar, hard expression on Raffy's face.

"Rafferty," she said quietly, "one day you'll realize money can't fix everything."

He scoffed. "Money fixes anything. You know why I didn't go to Great-Grandma's memorial? Because I thought it was bad luck. I didn't want to go, so I didn't. You mean nothing to me—who are you to lecture me?!"

Danielle froze halfway through turning around, her back suddenly rigid.

"Who taught you to talk like that?"

Her eyes locked on Raffy, sharp and searching.

A chill ran through Raffy. That look genuinely frightened him.

"I'm just telling the truth," he mumbled. "Dead people are bad luck, anyway…"

Danielle took a slow, shaky breath, struggling to keep her body from trembling.

How long had she been gone? How had Raffy changed so quickly? What had Alexander and Millie been saying in front of him?

She let out a bitter laugh, suddenly more certain than ever she'd made the right choice in leaving. This pit was one she'd have to climb out of for good.

Her head spun, and her soaked clothes clung cold and clammy to her skin. A child didn't just come up with talk like this—someone had to have taught him.

Arguing with Raffy was pointless. Danielle turned to leave.

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