How Does Death In The Family Novel Portray Grief And Healing?

Olivia Fordham was married to Ethan Miller for three years, but that time could not compare with the ten years he spent loving his first love, Marina Carlton. On the day that she gets diagnosed with stomach cancer, Ethan happens to be accompanying Marina to her children's health check-up. She doesn't make any kind of fuss, only leaving quietly with the divorce agreement. However, this attracts an even more fervent retribution. It seems Ethan only ever married Olivia to take revenge for what happened to his little sister. While Olivia is plagued by her sickness, he holds her chin and says coldly, "This is what your family owes me." Now, she has no family and no future. Her father becomes comatose after a car accident, leaving her with nothing to live for. Thus, she hurls herself from a building. "The life my family owes will now be repaid." At this, Ethan, who's usually calm, panics while begging for Olivia to come back as if he's in a state of frenzy …

I had seven days left to live. My father was the God of War. My mother was the Goddess of the Harvest. I was born with divine power running through my veins, and like all gods, I should have lived forever. But I'd been poisoned by Godsbane, a plant so deadly that even the Healer had no cure. I forced myself back to the temple through the pain, one step at a time. That was when my husband Caelum, the King of the Gods, came home. His expression was grave. "Lyra," he said, "your sister Selene has collapsed. Her divine blood is completely spent. The Healer says she won't survive the month. The only way to save her is for someone who shares her bloodline to give her half their divine blood." "You're twins. Your blood is perfectly matched." He paused. "Would you reconsider donating half of yours?" "I know it's a lot to ask." He hesitated, then reached into his robe and placed a divine decree on the table before me. It called for the revocation of my title as Queen. "But if you won't save Selene, I'll have to honor her last wish. She says she wants to marry me before she dies." I looked at the decree for a long moment. "Don't worry," he said, his voice softening as he took my hand. "Once this is over, I'll burn it myself and marry you again as my Queen. Lyra, you know you're the only one for me." I looked at him trying so carefully not to push too hard, and something hollow settled in my chest. He wasn't the only one. Even my parents, when I'd refused before, had turned cold and driven me from our home: "If you'd rather watch your sister die than help her, then get out. Don't ever come back." If that was what they all wanted, fine. I had seven days left anyway. "All right," I said. "I'll give her the blood." My father and mother were pleased. They said I'd finally come to my senses. I finally became the Queen they'd always wanted me to be. A good daughter. But when I died, why did they all cry?

When Mom is pregnant with me, Dad has an affair. The happy family that my older sister, Zara Johnson, once has falls apart after my birth. From then on, my parents become a couple who splits the bills. They keep track of every penny they spend raising me in a cold and calculated manner. By the time I'm undergoing my third round of chemotherapy after being diagnosed with cancer, they've been arguing nonstop. "This good-for-nothing child was conceived in the year you cheated on me. Why should I pay half of his medical bills?" "Because you enjoyed yourself in the process too! If you don't want to pay, then let him die. But don't you dare touch the tertiary education fund I've saved for our daughter!" Frustrated and furious, my parents storm out of the house one after the other. Right then, my illness flares up. I've already run out of pain medication at that point. The pain swallows me whole and even radiates deep into my bones. Clenching my teeth, I gather every penny I've managed to save and beg Zara to buy me more painkillers. She's in a hurry to meet her friends. So, she impatiently stuffs a handful of chewy candies into my medicine bottle before tossing it back to me. "Just take these. Stop pretending you're dying and keep dragging everyone down. I'm sick of looking at you," she says irritably. I stare at the chewy candy I'm holding in my palm. In that moment, my heart shatters into tiny little pieces. Maybe the only way Mom, Dad, and Zara can ever be happy… is if I disappear.

For the past seven years, I've been taking care of my paralyzed mother-in-law in the countryside on my own till the day she draws her last breath. That's when I finally get to see my husband, Arthur Hughes, whom I haven't seen for a very long time, hurrying back to the countryside. After the funeral, I pack up everything belonging to me and our daughter, Tessa Hughes, seeing as we're about to move to the city with Arthur soon. To my surprise, a woman seeks me out and shows me her marriage certificate. "I'm the actual wife of Arthur Hughes. Now that my mother-in-law has passed away, you've completed your mission. From now on, you are not allowed to contact Arthur anymore." I remain rooted to the spot, my body already shaking like a leaf uncontrollably. At that moment, I feel as though my mother-in-law is laughing at my stupidity, based on how she's smiling at me from her portrait.

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.