That afternoon, Dr. Alexander knocked on the door before entering. He cleared his throat lightly and announced his arrival.
"Come in," Rowan said, his deep voice carrying across the room.
The nurse behind the doctor bit back a laugh. She still couldn't erase the scene she'd witnessed that morning.
"Papa, you're late today," Lyra said, nibbling on the porridge Rowan had asked Kane to buy earlier.
Alex just smiled, saying nothing about why he was late, and she glanced behind him.
"Hi, Jane." Lyra wave slightly.
Many at the hospital were fond of Lyra—especially the older staff who still remembered her trailing after Alex when she was just a little girl.
"Hi, honey! How are you today? I bet you're feeling much better," Jane said with a grin.
She turned to Rowan. "And hi there—thank you so much for looking after our baby."
Rowan smirked, amused at Jane calling the grown woman beside him "baby". He nodded in return, excused himself to answer a call.
"I feel much better now. I really want to go home." She turned to her father.
"Let's check first," Alex said.
Jane slid the cuff onto Lyra's arm and tapped the machine's buttons with practiced ease, watching the numbers appear as Alex leaned closer. "You slept okay?"
Lyra took a slow sip of her porridge, then nodded twice, a soft "Mm…" escaping her lips between bites, her eyes still half on the bowl.
"Have you been able to eat—" Alex stopped himself and rephrased. "So, you've eaten well," he said, watching his daughter dig in with such appetite.
Lyra wiped her mouth after finishing the last bite.
"Any vomiting since this morning?"
Lyra shook her head. "No… I haven't thrown up, and I managed to eat a little."
That made Alex glance at the bowl—wide and deep, scraped clean—before shrugging.
"Okay," he said.
"Let's make sure everything's stable, and then we'll get you home," Alex said.
"But Papa, I don't want to stay another night—"
"No buts," Alex said, shaking his head slightly, one finger lifted in gentle warning.
"I'm deadly bored here and I'm going to turn into a ghost if you don't let me go home."
She had been acting perfectly healthy since morning, eating plenty in hopes of convincing her father to let her go home.
Jane finished the readings and jotted them down. "Looks like you're doing much better."
"See, Papa? I'm good." Lyra gave him a triumphant smile.
Alex sighed, defeated. "Fine, then. You can go home," he said, his tone softening. "But rest for three more days. Work only when you're really okay. Promise me?"
Lyra nodded, a gentle warmth in her eyes. "I promise."
The door slid open.
"Hi, sis!" Dominic's voice came through the door as he held Rowan's hand.
That impressed Lyra. Dominic never liked any man getting close to her—so when had those two become close?
To Dominic, Rowan had been his hero since the night he was kidnapped. He had seen firsthand how Rowan fought off the bad guys. One moment, they were standing—he next, they were all on the ground.
"I heard you can go home," he said, his eyes shining with happiness. Lyra ruffled his blond hair and laughed. "Of course…"
"Yay! Bro said I can come visit you whenever I want!"
Rowan could only sigh at Dominic's excitement. This boy had been pestering him lately, insisting on learning how to fight like him—and Rowan had been pretending not to hear.
"Oh, yes… but only after I've moved," she said with a small smile.
Monica and Dora arrived, the scent of takeout following them as they stepped inside with lunch in hand. They caught the tail end of the conversation and exchanged a quick look.
Dora chimed in with a grin, "By the way, all your stuff's already at the Arlington Penthouse."
She placed the takeout on the table.
"Ar—what Penthouse?" Lyra blinked.
Monica clapped a hand on Lyra's shoulder. "The Arlington Penthouse—that's your new home. And Dominic—" she turned to the boy with a bright smile. "Didn't you ask me for new Lego? Let's go grab some, shall we?"
That made Dominic jumped in surprise—he had almost forgotten.
Monica brought it up on purpose, not wanting Dominic to turn into a third wheel. Besides, she was eager to see grandchildren soon.
A faint crease formed between Lyra's brows. "Already?"
Dora nodded. "Thanks to Madam—she was quick." She leaned closer and whispered, "She wishes to hold a great-grandchild someday soon."
A half-crooked smile tugged at her lips. A faint, nervous laugh escaped as she rubbed the back of her neck. "She really said that?" Lyra asked in a low voice.
A soft blush creeping up her cheeks as her eyes drifted toward Rowan, who was busy with his laptop.
Phew. She let out a quiet breath and rubbed her chest in relief—he hadn't noticed.