Chapter 938

The Everhart family had lost two deeply respected elders in the blink of an eye. Gwyneth simply couldn't process the reality.

She cried silently the entire ride to the hospital. Leonie was rushed straight into the emergency room. Half an hour later, the nurses wheeled her out.

Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto Gwyneth. She spoke exactly one sentence.

"Where's my dad?"

Before Gwyneth could even form a word, Leonie passed out cold again. Gwyneth sat by her bed, entirely out of tears. She had already asked the attending physician. Mr. Everhart hadn't even made it to the ICU. He was dead before they reached the doors.

The impact had been too massive. He hadn't left himself an ounce of a chance to survive.

Throwing himself against the stone with that much force, shattering his skull... it meant that for the past few days, Mr. Everhart had only been holding onto his sanity just long enough to make sure his wife was laid to rest. He had always planned to follow her.

He never intended to live in a world without her. Even with Layne rushing him to the trauma center, he was already gone.

After days of agonizing pressure and zero sleep, Layne finally broke down, completely shattered.

The entire Everhart family was eclipsed by a suffocating shroud of tragedy. Since Gwyneth was heavily pregnant and in no shape to play nurse, Connor drove her back to her estate before returning to hold vigil over Leonie.

Gwyneth felt as though she were walking through a nightmare. When Butler Parham saw Connor dropping her off, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, but Connor didn't even step foot inside. He simply handed Gwyneth over to the butler.

"Keep a damn good eye on your boss. She's been through absolute hell today. Watch her closely, because if Hawthorne comes back and finds out anything happened to her, he'll have all your heads."

Barking out the warnings, Connor slammed the car door and sped back to the hospital. Gwyneth's legs felt like jelly, the world spinning around her.

Seeing her pale, swaying frame, Parham immediately barked for two maids to support her. He knew the Everharts tragedy had devastated his mistress, but with Hawthorne gone, Parham didn't dare breathe a word outside the estate.

He quietly mobilized the staff, ensuring Gwyneth was constantly monitored so the stress wouldn't trigger early labor.

The maids helped Gwyneth up to her bedroom, opening the windows to let in fresh air while someone called the family doctor.

They had originally tried to contact

Hawthorne but his phone was completely dead. The doctor's number had been lawthorne's fail-safe instructing them to call immediately if Gwyneth showed even the slightest discomfort.

The doctor arrived swiftly, running a thorough check on Gwyneth. Finding no severe complications, he left a strict list of bed-rest instructions.

Gwyneth lay there in a daze. When her mind finally cleared, the sorrow threatening

to crush her chest was beyond words.

Two wonderful people were dead. The sheer helplessness of the situation was paralyzing. With- Hawthorne completely off the grid in the wilderness, she had absolutely no one to talk to.

Her phone buzzed, flashing Victoria's name. Even though Layne had put a complete media blackout on the deaths, Victoria ran a sprawling intelligence network.

Nothing in Greenvale happened without her knowing. The second the call connected, a lump formed in Gwyneth's throat, and she nearly broke down. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to sound calm.

"Mom..."

"Gwyn, what on earth is happening over there?" Victoria demanded. "My people are telling me Mr. and Mrs. Everhart have both passed away back-to-back. What is going on?"