Chapter 891

Reginald approached Lucian with a smirk.

Just then, Genevieve emerged from the building. "Lucian, what are you doing out here?"

Lucian's gaze softened as it landed on her. "You were gone too long. I got worried."

Reginald chuckled, nudging Genevieve playfully. "Seems like someone can't bear to be apart from you."

A delicate blush spread across Genevieve's cheeks. "Stop teasing. Let's go back inside."

"Fine, fine."

Lucian walked away with them, his shoulder brushing past Rosalind without so much as a glance.

Rosalind stood frozen, her heart twisting painfully.

They had become strangers—two people who once knew each other's souls.

She leaned against the cold wall, eyes burning. No matter how hard she fought them, hot tears spilled down her face.

Losing Lucian hurt more than she ever imagined possible.

Exhausted, Rosalind returned home and collapsed onto her bed. Pregnancy had made her unbearably tired lately.

She had already enrolled at Julian's university, her paperwork finalized. Classes would start soon.

Then her phone rang.

Lillian's weak voice trembled through the line. "Rosalind... I'm sick."

Rosalind bolted upright. "Sick? Did you see a doctor?"

"High fever. 105 degrees. I'm in my dorm."

Though the research facility had medical staff, such a high fever was dangerous. What if it caused brain damage?

"I'm coming."

"Okay. I'll tell security to expect you."

Rosalind packed an overnight bag and hailed a cab straight to the research base.

Thirty minutes later, a guard escorted her to Lillian's dorm. "Here you are."

"Thank you."

She knocked. The door opened to reveal Lillian, pale and sweating. "You made good time."

Rosalind steadied her, pressing a hand to her forehead. "You're still burning up. Didn't the doctor give you anything?"

"He did. Medicine takes time. Fevers like this come in waves."

"Back to bed. I'll stay and take care of you."

The dorm was luxurious—more like a five-star hotel suite than student housing. Research staff certainly lived well.

Once Lillian was settled, Rosalind asked, "Hungry? I could make you something."

Lillian managed a weak smile. "Since when can you cook?"

Rosalind paused.

Raised as an heiress, she'd never needed to learn. But she refused to back down now.

She squared her shoulders confidently. "Just wait. You're getting the best grilled cheese of your life!"

Rosalind marched into the kitchen, pulled up a cooking tutorial, and got to work.

Thirty minutes later, Lillian rushed in, coughing.

"What's that burning smell?"