Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 523: You never arrived

The question lingered between them, obvious and intentional, with Anna growing more anxious by the second. She needed to know. Needed to understand what had truly happened to him.

She did not remember him ever telling her how he died.

But now, as Daniel himself reflected on it, something in his expression shifted.

Something uncertain.

Something incomplete.

"I... don’t know," he admitted quietly.

Anna blinked.

"You don’t know?" she repeated, disbelief evident in her voice.

It made no sense.

How could he remember their past? Their marriage. Their child. Her death.

And yet not remember his own?

Her heart pounded harder.

Daniel saw the questions forming in her eyes, the fear hidden beneath her confusion, and he spoke quickly.

"It is not that I remember nothing," he explained calmly. "I only recalled fragments during the last session."

Anna listened carefully.

"Before I could see more," he continued, "I suffered a severe headache. Jason had to stop the session midway."

At the mention of Jason, Anna’s brows furrowed slightly.

Daniel rarely spoke about that day in detail.

He had only mentioned that he was trying to recover pieces of his past through guided memory sessions. But he had never explained what had happened when things went wrong.

Now, he told her everything.

"It ended abruptly," he said quietly. "Before I could see anything clearly."

He paused.

"I never saw how I died."

Anna felt a chill run down her spine.

He had not even realized it himself.

He did not know whether he had died naturally... or if someone had taken his life too.

"This is not helping," she muttered under her breath.

Her mind raced.

If someone had pushed her... then who was it?

And why?

And if Daniel could not remember his own death...

Was it possible that he had been silenced too?

Her fingers curled tightly into the blanket.

The possibility made her uneasy.

Because it meant one thing.

Whoever had wanted her gone... might have wanted him gone as well.

And if that was true...

Then this was never an accident.

It was something deliberate.

Something planned.

She looked at Daniel, her chest tightening.

What frightened her the most was not the past.

It was the present.

Because if the truth had been buried once...

What was stopping it from repeating itself?

"Should I meet Jason again?" Daniel asked gently.

His voice pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts.

"I could try another session," he continued. "Maybe I will remember more."

He watched her carefully.

He did not want her to carry this burden alone.

He had brought this up because he wanted answers. Because he wanted to know who had taken her from him. Why no one had uncovered the truth. Why he had lived and died believing a lie.

But now, seeing the distress in her eyes, he questioned whether reopening those memories was the right choice.

"I do not want you to worry," he added softly.

Anna looked at him.

Worry was inevitable.

Because this was no longer just about memory.

It was about danger.

It was about truth.

And the terrifying possibility that the person responsible had never truly left their lives.

Her voice was quiet when she spoke.

"If remembering puts you in danger..."

She could not finish the sentence.

Daniel reached for her hand, holding it firmly.

"I am not afraid of remembering," he said.

His grip tightened slightly.

"I am afraid of not knowing."

Because ignorance had cost them everything once. And now they don’t want to repeat the same.

***

[Bennett Mansion]

"Yesterday, I summoned Officer Clement regarding the ongoing investigation on Collin," Hugo said calmly, setting his teacup aside with deliberate precision.

The soft clink of porcelain against the saucer echoed faintly in the otherwise quiet dining room.

Roseline, who had been eating moments ago, froze.

Her fork hovered above her plate before she slowly lowered it. She did not look at him. Instead, her gaze remained fixed on the untouched food before her, her posture carefully controlled.

"Unfortunately," Hugo continued, his voice steady and measured, "they have not been able to locate him whatsoever."

A shallow breath escaped her before she could stop it.

She reached for her glass of juice, her fingers wrapping around it as if anchoring herself. She lifted it to her lips, taking a small sip to steady her nerves.

"Is there anything else he mentioned?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

She tried to sound unaffected.

Uninterested.

But she could feel Hugo’s eyes on her.

Watching.

Observing.

Waiting.

"Indeed," Hugo replied.

He paused intentionally, letting the silence stretch just enough to make her uncomfortable.

Roseline’s fingers tightened slightly around the glass.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lean back in his chair, his expression unreadable save for the faint curl at the corner of his lips.

"He said," Hugo continued slowly, "that you visited the hospital the very same day Collin escaped."

Roseline’s face paled instantly.

Her grip on the glass loosened just enough that it nearly slipped from her hand. She caught it quickly, her fingers trembling despite her effort to remain composed.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

But she forced herself to breathe.

Forced herself to think.

"That is just a coincidence," she said carefully.

Her voice did not betray her.

Not yet.

"I remember visiting the doctor that day," she added. "It was the same hospital."

She lifted her eyes then, cautiously meeting Hugo’s gaze.

He was still watching her.

Still smiling faintly.

Not warmly.

Not kindly.

But knowingly.

As if he were not listening to her words, but measuring the truth behind them.

Roseline held his gaze, refusing to look away first.

But inside, unease coiled tightly in her chest.

"But is it not surprising to call it a coincidence?" Hugo asked calmly.

Roseline’s breath caught.

For a split second, her composure faltered, but she quickly forced a smile onto her lips. It was practiced. Controlled.

"Yes," she agreed lightly. "It is."

She lifted her glass again, more to occupy her hands than out of thirst.

Hugo did not touch his cup.

He simply watched her.

"So," he continued, his voice smooth but deliberate, "why did you visit the doctor? And how is it that I was not aware you were unwell?"

The smile on Roseline’s face stiffened.

Her eyes flickered away from his, and she let out a soft laugh, as if dismissing the matter entirely.

"It was nothing serious," she said. "Just a routine checkup."

She set the glass down carefully, ensuring her hands did not betray their trembling.

"I did not want to trouble anyone by calling the doctor home," she added. "So I decided to visit the hospital myself."

Her explanation was reasonable.

Simple.

Believable.

But Hugo did not respond immediately.

The silence stretched.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"But the doctor you were supposed to meet," he said slowly, his gaze never leaving her face, "informed me that you never arrived."

Roseline’s heart slammed violently against her ribs.

Her fingers curled against her lap beneath the table.

"And that you cancelled the appointment the very same day."