She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 228

Her family was startled to see her walk through the front doors in the middle of the workday. Kayla's face drained of color the second she spotted the dried blood matting Lyra's hairline. "Lyra, what happened to your head? Are you okay?" she gasped, rushing over.

"Just a minor fender bender, nothing to worry about," Lyra said, flashing a reassuring smile.

Martha hurried over, anxiously fussing over her. Thankfully, the windshield hadn't completely shattered, sparing her scalp from serious lacerations.

Delilah had been sequestered in the meditation room she had recently set up, completely oblivious to the commotion outside.

Lyra vaguely brushed off the rest of the concerned questions, desperate to escape upstairs.

But Kayla's anxiety only spiraled. Unable to shake the ominous feeling, she followed Lyra into her bedroom. "That... that phone call you forced me to make earlier," Kayla started hesitantly. "Did it have something to do with this crash?"

"Kayla, listen to me. No matter who asks you about that call in the future, you play dumb. Don't breathe a word of it to anyone. It was just a normal phone call." Her tone held a chilling weight Kayla had never heard before. "Everything I did today was to protect this family."

A cold shiver ran down Kayla's spine, and she nodded instinctively. "Okay. I understand."

Exhaling a heavy breath, the massive adrenaline crash finally hit Lyra. With the crushing tension of the past few weeks suddenly lifted, sheer exhaustion dragged her down. She collapsed onto her bed and instantly sank into a dead sleep.

She rested easy knowing an incident involving top-level government officials wouldn't make the evening news. When Caleb didn't come home for dinner due to a business engagement, she forced down a few bites of food and crawled right back under the covers.

The physical toll of the crash, combined with days of relentless mental strain, finally caught up with her. By midnight, a violent fever had seized her body.

Martha was the first to notice, hearing weak, pained groans slipping from the bedroom. A panicked Caleb rushed home and immediately hauled his sister back to the hospital.

Standing in the dead quiet of the VIP ward, Caleb cornered the physician. "Doctor, how is she?"

Assuming she was drifting off, Caleb softened his tone. "Get some sleep. I'll watch the IV. You're safe here."

He shrugged off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and settled into the uncomfortable armchair next to the bed.

Poking her head back out, she whispered, "Once this bag is done, go home. Kayla needs you there. Just hire a nurse for the night..."

"Just sleep, Lyra," Caleb interrupted, tucking the blankets securely around her shoulders, refusing to let her fret over logistics while ill.

She closed her eyes, finally succumbing to the exhaustion.

But somewhere in the dead of the night, a suffocating weight violently clamped around her throat. A dark, velvet voice hissed against her ear, *"Lyra, if you want to die that badly, I can do it for you. There's no need to make it this complicated."*