She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 183

It wasn't just Rowan.

Madeline was stunned too. She tugged at Lyra's sleeve. "Lyra?"

Jasmine's face darkened, clearly displeased that Lyra was staring so intensely at her boyfriend.

A second later, Lyra bolted out of the hall, not even bothering to grab her purse.

Just then, Rowan's phone rang.

He answered it with his usual stoic expression.

"What did you say?"

Rowan rarely showed emotion, but his face instantly turned terrifyingly grim. When he lowered the phone, his brows were knotted together.

Jasmine and Lucas asked what was wrong, but Rowan just stood there, completely silent, his gaze cold enough to freeze blood.

Waylon's phone rang next. He answered the call and asked in disbelief, "Arthur Fairchild... died of a heart attack?"

Chaos erupted instantly. Madeline panicked, "What! Lyra's dad... How is that possible? This has to be a joke, right?"

"How could this happen!"

Madeline's face went white with fear. Grabbing Lyra's forgotten purse, she frantically chased after her.

Rowan strode over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring intently outside. A moment later, his pupils constricted.

He saw Lyra take a brutal fall on the pavement.

Rowan immediately turned on his heel, heading straight for the exit.

"Rowan."

Jasmine quickly stepped forward, gently grabbing his arm. "Lucas is already on his way."

Lucas had followed her out, intending to drive her. Seeing her fall from a distance, he was about to rush over to help, but Lyra completely ignored the pain. She scrambled to her feet and charged toward the heavy traffic like a madwoman, desperately waving down a car.

An oddly familiar car pulled over immediately. She threw herself inside, and it sped off toward the hospital.

Lyra felt like she had seen the driver somewhere before, but her mind was too chaotic to place him. All she could think was, how was this possible?

A suffocating dread washed over her. Everything felt disjointed, like she was trapped in an absurd, waking nightmare.

Her father's love had always been a constant, enduring force, the very foundation of her existence.

The sky was grim, pressing down with a suffocating weight.

Delilah cried until she couldn't breathe, fainting several times. The moment Kayla realized she had been throwing a tantrum and worrying her father-in-law in his final days, the remorse swallowed her whole. She sobbed uncontrollably.

Caleb dressed in pitch black from head to toe. With a hardened, icy expression, he shouldered everything without a single complaint. His eyes were entirely bloodshot as he silently arranged the funeral, greeted the guests, and handled the endless logistics.

Relatives of the Fairchild family rushed over, immersing the estate in a heavy, oppressive sorrow. Marcus had already boarded a flight, rushing back.

The funeral, held two days later, was exceptionally grand.

Old family friends from the Jamesons, Chavezs, Vances, and Graysons all attended, mourning in solemn silence. Everyone wore somber expressions.

Rowan looked over at Lyra.

She stood there quietly. There was no hysterical crying, just an absolute, hollow numbness. It was as if she were floating mid-air, entirely disconnected from reality.

Madeline and Caspian stood by her side. Madeline would periodically pull her into a hug, sobbing until her voice gave out.

But Lyra just stood there numbly, without shedding a single tear. When Victoria walked over to comfort her, Lyra didn't say a word. Victoria eventually asked Caspian to keep a close eye on her, wiped her own eyes, and left.

It wasn't until the funeral ended and they returned home that the reality finally crashed down on Lyra. Looking at the exhausted, overworked Kayla, she realized she had made a terrible mistake.