The Wife He Buried Alive novel · Chapter 7 of 32

Chapter 7: Sixty Women Who Came to My Funeral

The country club's ballroom was full of white roses and women in pastel dresses.

Sixty round-backed chairs faced a head table, and Juliet sat in the middle of it in cream silk with a sash that said BRIDE.

I stopped just inside the door in the dark green dress Bev had found for me.

The room went quiet in a ripple, table by table.

I recognized half the faces. One had brought me a casserole when I joined the hospital board. Another had cried on the lawn at my funeral.

Juliet rose, with a tissue in her hand and her eyes already bright.

"Linnea," she said into the microphone. "You came."

She came down from the head table with her arms open, and I let her hug me again, with every phone in the room pointed at us.

"Everyone, this is Linnea," Juliet said, and her voice trembled. "I was so afraid when she came back. She has been through so much. I want to apologize to her in front of all of you."

She turned to me.

"I said some unkind things on the news. I'm so sorry, Linnea. I know you aren't well."

A woman at the nearest table pressed her hand to her heart. Somebody started to clap.

It was well done. It was so smooth that for a second I almost admired it.

I held out my hand. Juliet, startled, gave me the microphone.

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