She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 289

Lyra tore through the crowd like a madwoman. The ground was littered with shattered debris and twisted metal. The sandalwood prayer beads were scattered across the concrete, snapped and broken. And there, lying beneath the wreckage, was a mangled, unrecognizable body covered by Caleb's jacket. The fabric was soaked in dark stains, a horrific sight that made the blood freeze in her veins.

"Caleb... Caleb..."

Lyra's voice cracked in pure agony. She dropped to her knees, scrambling over the sharp rocks, desperately reaching to pull the jacket off the victim's head.

"Don't look! The ambulance is on its way..."

Stewart Johnson, the veteran factory manager, lunged forward and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

But she was entirely deaf to his warnings. With her free hand, she violently yanked the fabric away. The crowd around them collectively gasped.

Lyra's pupils dilated in sheer terror. A second later, a blood-curdling, agonizing scream ripped from her throat, so utterly devastated it sent shivers down the spines of everyone watching. "Ahhhh—!"

The face was entirely pulverized, devoid of any feature that belonged to the handsome brother she knew.

Bystanders turned away, covering their mouths in horror. Someone muttered, "Where is the ambulance? They need a hospital!"

A worker nearby shook his head. "With injuries like that... an ambulance won't do anything. The hospital told us to call the morgue directly."

Lyra slumped against the rough pavement, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. "No! It's impossible! Caleb isn't dead! What are you all standing around for?! Call a damn ambulance!"

Her eyes were locked onto the ruined body. Her trembling hands reached out, as if her mind had fractured and she believed she could somehow piece the broken remains back together.

"Miss Fairchild, that's not Caleb!"

"What?" Lyra froze mid-reach, yanking her hands back as if she'd been burned. She scrambled backward in a panic. Zane lunged forward, grabbing her by the shoulders to keep her from falling backward.

Zane looked up, his gaze sharp and commanding. "Explain. Now."

Stewart wiped his forehead. "Caleb is fine. He just took a bad hit to his arm and went to the hospital to get stitched up. We still don't know who this poor worker is..."

Staring at the stranger's corpse, Lyra went entirely rigid. A violent wave of nausea hit her stomach. Ignoring the stares of the crowd, she pushed herself up, stumbled away, and slumped against a nearby wall, dry-heaving violently.

It wasn't until she walked into the emergency room and saw Caleb standing there, breathing and alive, that the last remaining thread of Lyra's composure snapped. She threw herself into his arms and broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

Caleb used his uninjured arm to rub her back, his voice thick with emotion. "Why are you crying? I'm right here. I'm fine."

Lyra cried until her legs felt weak. As her sobs finally began to subside, she looked past Caleb's shoulder and noticed Rowan standing a few feet away.

Her eyes were bloodshot. "Why is he here?" she choked out.

"Thank God he came looking for me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back just in time. If he hadn't, I would have been crushed."

Zane had already exchanged a few brief words with Rowan.

He looked back at Lyra, who was finally calming down. Her coat was dusted with ash, her hair was a tangled mess, and her eyes and nose were completely red from crying. She looked overwhelmingly fragile.

"Thank God it was a false alarm," Zane said gently. "I'm going to go find some water for everyone."