LYRA.

I sat quietly beside my mother, holding her hand in mine as she lay still on the hospital bed. My eyes burned with hot tears as I watched her looking helpless and my heart raced wildly as the thought of losing her crept into my mind, making my chest tighten with panic.

She had developed a stroke on the day of the scandal, collapsing in her office as the video clip surfaced the internet. I'd stayed awake that night, waiting patiently for her and my father's return from work so I could confront her and question her as to why she'd engage in such an act in the first place. I started to get worried at around 8:30 that evening, about thirty minutes past her usual return time from work and I was yet to hear the honk of her car horn at the gate. I dialed her number and the phone kept beeping, ending the call and when I tried my dad's, it kept ringing but he wasn't picking up. I ran downstairs to the kitchen, asking the maid and the cook if they'd heard from them or if my parents had informed them that they'd be returning late, and they replied in the negative. I began to pace about the house restlessly, shaking with fear and making a silent prayer for their safety on their behalf. My worries abated a bit when I finally heard the loud honk of a car horn at the gate, and I ran to the door to find my mother's car drive in through the gate. Upon closer look, I realized it was just my dad, and he parked the car haphazardly at the entrance of the house, jumping down from the car and wheezing past me into the house with tears in his eyes.

I became puzzled as I noticed his expression and I followed him into the house, feeling a knot in my throat. My mind began to conjure all manner of evil thoughts, but I suppressed them down, refusing to believe the thoughts reeling in my head.

“What's going on, dad?” I asked as I stepped into his room, shutting the door behind me. He sat on the bed, his face buried in his palms and he sobbed softly. I felt my pulse spike as I approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Dad? What's going on? Where's mom?”

He looked up at me, his eyes reddened with tears. “Your mother's been admitted at the hospital,” he said, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. “She collapsed after a very silly video of her broke the internet. You saw it, didn't you?”

I said nothing as I stared at him blankly, his words hitting me like a punch in the gut. I ignored his question and sat beside him folding my arms across my chest. 

“How's she now? Is she okay? Why are you crying?” I asked, willing myself to be strong. I'd never seen my dad this emotional in all my years of existence, and seeing him break down this much weakened every part of my being.

“She's in a very critical condition, Alina,” my dad said, looking at me. “The doctors are doing all they can. I only came home to see you.”

I stood up from the bed, taking gentle strides around the room and finally stopped at the mirror which hung on the wall above my mother's dressing table. I stared intently at my father's reflection in the mirror, watching him as he tried to steady his emotions in vain.

“Take me to her, dad,” I said suddenly, startling him. He looked up at me in surprise, then shook head sadly. 

“No, Lyra,” he said, his voice low and soft. “You have to stay back here. I'll get back to the hospital and try sorting everything that needs to be sorted. You just stay home and pray for her recovery, okay?”

“Take me to the hospital, Dad,” I repeated, turning around to stare at him right in the eye. “My mother's lying critically in the hospital and you're asking me to stay back?”

“Lyra—” he started to say but I ignored him, walking to the door.

“I'll be waiting for you downstairs,” I said and walked out.

Seated beside my mother now and thinking of the ugly event that had brought her here, all I prayed and wanted right now was her coming out of this alive. I cared less about the scandal, nor the shame that it had brought upon my family and especially upon me. All I wanted was for her to live. The ventilator suddenly started beeping in irregular tones and I jumped up alarmingly, rushing out of the ward. 

“Doctor! Nurse! Somebody help!!” I yelled frantically as my heart pounded loudly against my chest. The doctor and a nurse rushed in to my mother, checking the machine. The doctor immediately began to perform CPR on her, and I felt a tight knot form in my threat as the tears that burned in my eyes started to roll down my cheeks. The doctor suddenly looked up at me, hanging his stethoscope on his neck and shaking his head sadly as he walked towards me. 

“What is it, doctor?” I asked, widening my eyes in alarm. “Where are you going? What's wrong with my mother?”

“I'm sorry, Lyra,”  he said, placing hand on my shoulder. “We lost her.”

My ears felt like wax and his words felt feathery in my ears. “You lost her?”

“I'm sorry,” he said, turning to nod at the nurse who covered her up with the bedcover.

I stared blankly as I tried to make sense of his words. I walked out of the ward, tears cascading down my cheeks and blurring my vision and I felt my knees go weak as darkness overwhelmed me, making me slump to the ground in shock.

I woke up about an hour later to find myself on a bed in one of the wards in the hospital. A nurse stood diligently by me, looking at me tenderly.

“What happened to me?” I asked, puzzled.

“You passed out about an hour ago,” she said, speaking softly to me. “I'm sorry about your mother, dearie.”

I nodded slowly, fresh tears brimming in my eyes. “Where's my dad? Has he been here yet?”

“We've not seen any sign of him so far,” she replied. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, I need to go home,” I replied, getting down from the bed. “Where's my phone?”

“Oh, you'll get it at the reception,” the nurse said, helping me down from the bed. “After you, please.”

I walked slowly out of the ward to the reception where I was handed my phone. I opened it to find lots of notifications pouring in from my class’ group text, with more than half of them having me tagged. A notification from my lockscreen read “that's my condolence to you for the death of your father”. I quickly opened the messages out of curiosity and my jaw dropped as I read through the messages, all of them directed at me. Cassian's message stood out from the rest, in his usual taunting tone: Serves you right. Hope you now get to know your place in the world.

I stared at the messages in disbelief. My father, dead? I quickly rushed up to Google and typed in his full name, holding my breath as I clicked on search. I fell to the ground in tears as the results came in, the first with a very bold headline: Billionaire tech mogul, Ryan Morgan jumps to his death from 50 storey Rowes headquarters in Manhattan, two hours after his wife is pronounced dead.