Mr. Fairchild's Rose: She is Wild and Proud-Chapter 300 - 209: Keane_3

He’s not even afraid of the young master; that’s the strangest part!

But a second passed.

Two seconds passed.

Half a minute passed.

There was still no sound of a child crying.

Miles Hughes lifted his head slightly and glanced at Julian Fairchild and the little boy.

He found them staring wide-eyed at each other, with an indescribable resemblance from the side...

A flash of inspiration came to Miles’ mind about why he felt a sense of familiarity.

This little boy was practically made from the same mold as the young master!

Keane wasn’t afraid at all, especially since this uncle gave him good vibes, making him even less scared.

The man’s face couldn’t be described as gentle, but it wasn’t as terrifying as before.

Julian Fairchild handed the little boy over to Miles Hughes.

Miles quickly reached out to catch him, "Young Master?"

"Bring him inside."

...

Maeve Lane was still resting in her apartment when she received the call.

Her phone rang urgently like a death bell.

With her eyes still closed, she answered by memory, "Who is it?"

"Miss Maeve Lane, Ms. Jennings’ condition has worsened."

Maeve Lane’s eyes shot open as she sat up, her heart sinking, "What happened?"

"It’s hard to explain over the phone. Dr. Forrest wants you to come immediately."

"Okay, I’m on my way."

...

Fellsmere. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Rosalyn Jennings lay in bed, eyes shut tight, her face hollowed out, a stark contrast to the woman Maeve had seen that day.

Felix Forrest and several nurses stood to the side, a document in his hand as he noted something down.

Maeve Lane knocked softly on the door.

Felix Forrest glanced up at her, "Come in, we just gave her a sedative."

"You all can leave now, I need to speak with Maeve alone."

"Alright." They answered in unison and gradually left the room.

With the door gently closed, Maeve Lane sat by Rosalyn’s bed, her brows furrowed, "How did it suddenly worsen?"

"Ms. Jennings has been under extreme stress recently. She’s only lucid for short periods, so I couldn’t get much out of her. I thought it best to call you."

Felix Forrest looked somewhat apologetic, "I heard from the nurse who was on duty that she got like this after a phone call, which is likely related."

"That call was from Sylvia Lane, your sister."

Maeve Lane, silent, picked up the phone by the bedside where the call log was displayed.

It was an unfamiliar number.

But somewhat familiar.

To confirm her suspicion, Maeve took out her phone and compared the numbers.

It was indeed Sylvia’s number.

Her gaze turned cold, "I understand."

Felix Forrest felt a little troubled, "Didn’t you tell her not to agitate Ms. Jennings recently? If she’s agitated again, her condition will become even more complicated."

"There’s a very real possibility she might never recover." He paused, delivering the worst-case scenario, "You’ll need to be prepared mentally, though people speak highly of me, I’m no miracle worker."

Maeve nodded, "It’s complicated; I can’t explain right now. I will warn her."

"If anything happens, call me directly."

"OK."

...

Fairchild Family.

The wealthier you are, the duller life becomes.

As one of the premier families in Aurelia, the Fairchild Family remained mysterious, but in recent years, due to Mrs. Fairchild’s love for socializing, many affluent ladies visited for chats and to partake in various opulent displays of wealth.

For instance, today, Mrs. Fairchild had brought a group to the family’s main house. The corridor above the second floor was lined with countless masterpieces, serving only to capture the host’s fleeting attention.

It’s less about a love for socializing and more about the satisfaction found in seeing others overwhelmed, gratifying a growing vanity.

Just like now, Sylvia Lane, holding Mrs. Fairchild’s hand, remarked in amazement:

"Mrs. Fairchild, the Fairchild Family truly has such heritage. Any one of these paintings would cause a sensation on the market."

Several of the companions chimed in:

"Indeed, I’ve always loved these paintings. Today is a real feast for the eyes."

"Mrs. Fairchild is really blessed."

Mrs. Fairchild smiled faintly, chin lifted high, "They’re alright; the truly valuable pieces are in the collection room."

Sylvia’s eyes were brimming with greed and desire.

Just as she was about to say something, her phone rang.

She quickly hung up without a second glance, but the ringing persisted. She gave an awkward smile under everyone’s gaze, "Excuse me, I need to take this."

The others glanced sideways at her and continued joking with Mrs. Fairchild.

"There’s actually a painting by Master Jobs here. Heavens, I’ve always wanted one of his works but never had the chance."

Mrs. Fairchild yawned elegantly, her tone indifferent, "Then it’s yours."

"Thank you, Mrs. Fairchild!"

...

Sylvia Lane walked to the vintage round window, speaking harshly, "Maeve Lane, what do you want now!"

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of the Fairchild Family, right now."

Sylvia Lane was taken aback, an uneasy chill running down her spine.