The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 873

After she finished the soup, River handed her an energy bar. “Have one of these, too. You need the calories.”

He then gestured toward the tents. “We should check the rain flies and make sure everything is secure. I have a feeling this is going to be a big storm.”

Danielle took the bar and nodded. “Okay. Thanks for everything.”

Using flashlights, they inspected each tent. As River tightened the guy lines on the rain flies, he said, “If you hear any strange noises during the night, or if your tent starts leaking, call me right away. Don’t try to handle it yourself.”

“We’re not in the city,” he added. “We need to look out for each other.”

“I will. Thank you,” Danielle said, genuinely grateful. This assignment was tough, but River’s constant support—helping with gear, making soup, and offering practical advice—had made her feel much more secure.

By the time they finished, a fine drizzle had started to fall, and the wind was picking up. They hurried back to their respective tents. Just as Danielle stepped inside, the drizzle turned into a downpour. Rain hammered against the tent’s fabric with a dull, rhythmic drumming. She lifted a corner of the flap and peered out. Rainwater streamed down the waterproof material, forming small puddles on the ground. The light was still on in River’s tent nearby; he was likely doing a final check as well.

Danielle closed the flap and turned her computer back on to finish her work.

Sometime later, her phone buzzed. She picked it up to see a weather alert: moderate to heavy rain with strong wind gusts expected in the region for the next two hours. A knot of unease tightened in her stomach. She grabbed her flashlight and checked the tent’s anchors one last time. After confirming everything was secure, she finally relaxed and returned to her computer.

A cold dread washed over her. River was a light sleeper; a noise that loud should have woken him. Forcing down her rising panic, she reached for the flashlight beside her sleeping pad, but her fingers touched a patch of cold dampness.

*Damn it, the tent is leaking.*

Danielle frowned and pushed herself up. As she unzipped the tent flap just a crack, the sight outside made her freeze. Bathed in the pale moonlight stood Nathan, dressed in a black trench coat, his face a mask of grim satisfaction. Behind him stood four imposing men, each holding a dark object that looked like a stun baton.

“Nathan? What are you doing here?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady, though her fingers tightened on the zipper. She couldn’t understand how he could have possibly found this place.