She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 42

The rain fell in a steady, rustling drizzle as Shera walked over to her car parked by the curb.

——

Aurelia Memorial Cemetery

The rain continued to pour, the mist clinging to the mountaintop, adding an extra layer of desolation to the atmosphere.

A tall silhouette stood quietly in front of a headstone. Holding an umbrella overhead, the man leaned down to place a bouquet of flowers, his fingertips gently tracing the engraved photo on the stone.

Rhys Jewell’s eyes were calm, his emotions unreadable.

Raindrops caught the wind, landing on the edges of his eyebrows and pooling into tiny droplets. A long trench coat wrapped around his frame, the hem slightly damp from his earlier movements.

“Dad, I’m back.”

His voice was incredibly soft, almost swallowed entirely by the ambient sounds of the storm.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapped one out, lit it, and placed it on the ledge of the headstone. The smoke drifted up, curling around his fingers.

“Dunhill cigarettes. Your favorite.”

Rhys stood up straight, slipping his hands into his pockets as he quietly gazed at the familiar face.

“You’re not upset that it took me this long to come see you, right?”

The man in the photo had a kind, gentle face. He looked no older than fifty, though his hair had been graying at the temples. Prolonged illness had thinned him out, hollowing his cheeks slightly, yet his eyes were as warm and welcoming as ever.

Memories he couldn't entirely suppress began to flood his mind.

Finding him at the gates of the orphanage. Feeding him, clothing him, paying for his education, and teaching him how to be a man.

The love he’d been missing from his biological parents had been entirely fulfilled by this man who shared none of his blood.

Kind-eyed, warm, and radiant—like a beam of light pulling him out of the abyss.

He had even thought that he’d be perfectly happy just being Rhys Jewell for the rest of his life.

He stood there for a long time. It wasn't until the rain began to ease that the chime of a text message shattered the dead silence.

It was Shera.

[I’m at your office]

He flipped the phone screen over. His thin lips curved into a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Don't worry. I’ll take good care of her for you.”

—

Throughout Shera's entire student life, he had been there.

From elementary school all the way through college.

Raindrops slipped from the edges of their umbrellas. In the silent cemetery, their gazes locked in a wordless standoff that felt like an eternity. Neither man spoke.

Caden eventually decided he had no intention of lingering. He turned slightly, stepping onto the stairs to continue his path.

As they brushed past each other, droplets of rain soaked into their coats.

By the time Rhys reached the parking lot, Reba was already waiting by the car.

Seeing him approach, she pulled the door open.

“Mr. Jewell, the office called to say Ms. Jewell has arrived.”

“Hmm.”

He slid into the back seat, took off his gold-rimmed glasses, and methodically wiped the condensation from the lenses.

The car pulled away smoothly, the scenery outside the window rushing backward.

Rhys sat in the back, his eyes half-closed, his fingertips tapping a rhythmic, steady beat against his thigh.