Chapter 181

Chapter 181

He turned to face the gravestone, his voice full of grievance and anger, like a child tattling on someone.

"Mom, Dad, this is the guy — what makes him worthy of my sister? You must have seen everything from heaven, all the ways he hurt her! He's total scum. Please don't bless him — I hope The Conway Group goes bankrupt!"

Lucas listened to Alan's childish accusations. A flash of helplessness and embarrassment crossed his handsome face.

But he didn't argue back.

He slowly turned to face the gravestone again, his voice low and steady. "Mom, Dad, Alan's right. I did wrong. I was a jerk. But everyone makes mistakes. Please — give me a chance to make things right. As long as Angela gets better, I'll do whatever it takes."

Frances had heard enough.

She rolled her eyes, one hand holding the umbrella, the other on her hip, and cut them off. "Alright, enough. How are you two so childish? What did you come up here for? To do stand-up comedy?"

She shot Alan a sharp look, then gave Lucas a cold glance.

"Alan, go get the spare thick blanket from the car. Angela's hands are getting cold. And you, Mr. Conway — you head down too. Let Angela have some time alone with Mom and Dad."

Alan wasn't happy about it, but the moment he heard Angela's hands were cold, he said okay and took off down the hill.

Lucas took one long look at Angela, his eyes full of reluctance and worry. But he held himself back, stood up, and said quietly, "I'll wait for you in the car at the bottom."

Then he opened his umbrella and walked slowly down the hill.

The area in front of the gravestone finally went quiet.

The light rain tapped against the umbrella in dull, muffled beats.

Frances stepped closer and gently put her arm around Angela's shoulders, tilting the umbrella a little more toward her.

"Angela," Frances said, her voice heavy with sadness and reluctance.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you to Novaria? I'm worried about you. I'd feel so much better if I could be there with you."

Angela turned and looked at her friend's eyes, still slightly red and swollen from crying. A wave of warmth washed over her.

She shook her head gently and took Frances's hand. "Frances, really, you don't have to. You've already done so much for me. You have your career here, your life here. You can't let my situation turn your whole world upside down. Besides, Alan will be with me. I'll be fine."

Frances bit her lip, and the tears finally spilled over.

She sniffled and wiped them away stubbornly, her voice breaking as she whined, "I don't care — you have to promise me you'll come back safe and sound. I'm waiting for you back home so we can go shopping together, eat our way through the city. I heard the food market has a ton of new restaurants, and I haven't gone to a single one — I've been saving them all for you!"

"I'm waiting for you to go with me. Don't you dare break your promise. You hear me?"

Watching her friend fuss and hope like that, Angela felt something warm and gentle fill her chest.

She looked at her parents' kind, smiling faces on the gravestone, then at the hopeful look in her best friend's eyes.

For the first time in a long while, being alive didn't feel like something to endure.

"Okay," Angela said, the corners of her mouth curving into a faint but tender smile.

"I'll try."

The gravel path down the hill was slick from the rain.

Frances gripped the wheelchair handles carefully, terrified of even the smallest bump.

But before they reached the parking lot, the sound of a tense, angry argument drifted toward them through the wind and rain.

"Jasper Garcia! Don't you dare threaten me with the inheritance! I don't give a damn about the Garcia family board!"

Alan's voice.

Angela's expression shifted. She signaled Frances to stop.

Around the corner, Alan was leaning against the car door with one hand, soaked through, wet hair plastered to his forehead.

Lucas was still there too, standing not far away with his umbrella.

"She's my family! She's fighting for her life right now, and you want me to drop everything for some business deal? What kind of person would that make me?"

Alan growled into the phone.

"The losses? I'll make them back. Every single one."

"Is there anything in your world besides money?"

The voice on the other end seemed to fire back, cold and sharp.

Alan's grip on the phone tightened.

"You don't have a choice! If you're not back today, the Garcia family will call a board meeting immediately, strip you of all your positions, and revoke your status as heir. That so-called sister of yours is nobody to you. Is she really worth throwing away your entire future?"

"She's not nobody! She's my sister!" Alan screamed back.

"If her parents hadn't taken me in back then, I'd be dead. I'm not going anywhere today — you want to kick me out? Go ahead and do it right now!"

"I never wanted to be a Garcia anyway. My name is Alan Andrews. Not Alan Garcia!"

He was so furious the words just poured out.

He hung up and slammed the phone down hard on the roof of the car.

"Alan."

A tired voice broke through the rain.

Alan froze. He looked up — and met Angela's eyes, filled with heartache.

"Angela..." He quickly wiped his face with his hand, trying to pull himself together.

He rushed over and crouched beside the wheelchair, grabbing Angela's cold hands.

"Angela, when did you get here? I'm fine, I'm —"

"I heard everything." Angela reached out with her other hand and gently brushed the wet hair from his forehead, her fingertips carrying a quiet, almost sorrowful tenderness.

"Go back to the Garcia family, Alan."

"No! I'm not going back!" Alan's composure broke instantly.

He held onto Angela's hands like a child terrified of being left behind.

"I'm going to Novaria with you! I'm not leaving you alone — I can't!"

"When I was sick and almost died, you never left me. You even married Lucas just to pay for my treatment. How could I ever leave you now?"

Tears finally rolled down Alan's face as he spoke.

Angela's throat tightened. She held his hands and looked at this brother who had been her whole world.

She couldn't bring herself to say anything harsh.

"Leave it to me."

Lucas had walked over at some point without either of them noticing.

He stood there holding a black umbrella, his dark coat dotted with fine beads of rain.

He stepped up beside the wheelchair and looked down at Alan, his eyes stripped of their usual arrogance.

There was nothing left in them but a deep, still calm.

"Lucas, shut your mouth!" Alan shot to his feet and jabbed a finger at Lucas's face. "Leave it to you? My sister ended up like this, and you had a hand in all of it. What is this — you playing the devoted husband now? Why the hell would I trust you?"