She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 229

Lyra jolted awake the next morning to bright sunlight flooding the room.

Martha walked in holding a warm bowl of soup. "Your fever broke, sweetie. Caleb said the doctor came in around midnight when it spiked, but you're back to normal this morning. How are you feeling?"

Rubbing her throat instinctively, Lyra rasped, "Where's Caleb?"

"He just left for the office. I'm taking the day shift."

Lyra let out a shaky breath. It must have been a fever dream. Just like that time at the temple, her subconscious was inexplicably haunted by the terrifying specter of Rowan Jameson.

Slipping out of bed, she padded into the bathroom and inspected her neck in the mirror. There were no marks.

Martha urged her to eat, but Lyra had zero appetite. She crawled back into bed to wait for the morning rounds.

Suddenly, a procession of sharply dressed, highly authoritative individuals filed into the VIP suite.

"Miss Fairchild, we are here on behalf of The Administration." The man leading the group wore a dark, impeccably tailored suit, the subtle pins on his lapel indicating a frighteningly high clearance level. "If you hadn't risked your life yesterday, the consequences would have been catastrophic. You didn't just save Secretary Thorne; you prevented an international crisis."

Another official behind him stepped forward. "We have reviewed the incident. Your bravery and composure under fire have been noted. The Administration does not forget those who bleed for their country. Once you're fully recovered, a formal commendation ceremony will be held in your honor."

"Focus entirely on healing. You have been granted top-tier security and unlimited access to medical resources."

Lyra offered a modest smile. "That's really not necessary..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze landed on the only familiar face in the room, lingering at the back of the group.

Charles Jameson.

She hadn't expected Rowan's father to be here. He wielded immense political power in Seaborne City.

Catching her eye, Charles finally spoke up. "Lyra, do you even know who you pulled from that wreckage? That was General Preston Thorne, the Secretary of Defense."

As the entourage filed out, Charles paused by the door. His expression was a mix of awe and grim sincerity. "You've done an unimaginable service today, Lyra. I'll have Victoria come visit you later."

"You really don't..."

Before she could finish the sentence, he was already gone, leaving the ward in stunned silence.

Martha nearly dropped the flowers as she exhaled a massive breath. "Lyra! Who on earth were those people? Just who did you save? Why was Mr. Jameson standing with them like that?"

It didn't matter who they were.

All Lyra cared about was that Fairchild Holdings was now backed by an untouchable shield. She lay back against the pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling.

In her past life, she had already been married to Rowan by this point. She remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between him and his father, catching rumors that the Secretary's regular driver had deliberately sabotaged the armored Lincoln's brakes.