The car shot to a stop and the hotel staff practically sprinted over, handing the keys to Damian and fumbling to open the passenger door.
"Hurry, Kane," Damian urged, his voice tight with urgency as he hopped into the driver's seat.
Kane rushed forward but in his panic, Lyra's forehead knocked straight into the door frame.
She flinched hard, pressing a palm to her brow. Brilliant.
As if having her hair yanked by a lunatic woman wasn't enough, now her forehead wanted to join the pain list too.
"Sorry, madam!" Kane blurted, already sweating.
"It's fine, it's fine…just put me down. I'll get in myself," Lyra spoke, her voice barely above a faint breath.
She'd been exhausted by the chaos from the moment she arrived.
Thankfully, these two men had dragged her out of it, and since the car was right there, she could at least climb in without being used as a battering ram.
Kane quickly braced his hand against the frame this time. No way he was letting her hit her head twice in one afternoon.
Once Lyra managed to climb inside, Kane shut the door fast and jumped into the car.
The car surged forward the moment they hit the street.
Damian pushed the car to its limit, racing toward the nearest hospital in Bellwyn City.
Lyra was already dizzy, and the speed combined with the twisting roads pushed her over the edge.
She lurched forward and vomited acidic yellow bile until nothing left in her stomach. It splattered across her white dress, staining it instantly.
Lyra let out a weak breath and patted the back of Damian's seat, trying to get his attention.
She wanted to tell him to slow down, just a little, but no sound came out. The nausea pinned her silent, choking off every word.
But Damian misunderstood her patting. He thought she was telling him to go faster.
So he did, pressing the accelerator harder.
Kane glanced back and saw how pale she'd gone, her fingers trembling as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
He immediately reached over and offered her a bottle of water, hoping it would help.
But the moment she took a sip, her body rejected it violently, and she threw up again. Her shoulders shaking with the effort as she clutched her stomach.
As soon as they reached the emergency entrance, Lyra was trembling.
Kane took off his coat and wrapped it around her, then lifted his madam as if her weight meant nothing to him. He wasted no time and shouted.
"Doctor."
"Get a doctor—immediately."
…
Lyra curled up on the hospital bed, an IV line taped to her hand.
Sometimes she drifted awake just enough to hear or feel something, and other times she slipped back out of awareness.
Everything around her felt blurred and unclear, but she could still make out the faint sound of a doctor speaking to someone outside the room.
A few feet outside the door, Rowan and the doctor stood facing each other.
The doctor was a woman in her thirties, glasses perched neatly on her nose, her platinum hair fading into a soft purple tint at the ends.
Rowan thought her face looked familiar, like someone he'd seen before, but he didn't have the energy to place it. His mind was fixed solely on his wife, who was clearly in pain.
"She's exhausted and emotionally shaken. There are signs of panic as well. She needs time to stabilize," the doctor said.
Her voice was soft and steady as she explained everything to the man in front of her.
He was trying to hide his worry, but wasn't doing a very good job of it.
Rowan stood rigid, arms crossed, a deep crease forming between his brows as he absorbed the doctor's words.
"There are scratch marks on her scalp, caused by sharp nails," the doctor added, certain of her assessment.
Lyra managed to explain to the doctor that her head hurt badly after being yanked so forcefully. When the doctor examined her, she found not only inflammation but a few small cuts as well.
The doctor waited for Rowan to respond, but nothing came out of his mouth.
Then footsteps approached from behind.
Sensing it was time for her to excuse herself and give the family some privacy, the doctor stepped back.
Before leaving, she asked, "Do you have any questions?"
"How long until she recovers?" Rowan asked.
"If nothing else comes up, two days should be enough," the doctor replied.
Rowan nodded, understood.
As she excused herself, Rowan stepped toward the group that had just arrived. He didn't notice the way she paused at the doorway.
The doctor cast a brief look back into the room. Something weighing on her mind.
Dr. Mia Chavan walked up to the patient counter and placed Lyra's file on top of the stack.
She gave the nurse a quick reminder to double-check the medication times and everything that followed.
"If anything happens with this patient, call me right away," Mia said.
She glanced at her watch. "I'll be on break for thirty minutes. Anything urgent—call."
The nurse nodded, and Mia headed for her office, because someone was waiting for her.
Someone desperate for news about her newest patient.
When Mia pushed open her office door, she felt a presence behind her. He followed her in, and the door clicked shut.
Neither of them spoke. They simply sat, like two people who understood each other too well to need words.
"How is she?" Edris finally asked.
"She's improving," she said quietly.
She studied him for a moment, then asked the question that had been sitting in her mind.
"Is she the real reason you came back to Bellwyn?" Mia asked softly, not pushing him to answer.
She tossed the question out casually, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. Her eyes drifted over her younger brother's face, quietly studying his reaction.
Edris looked away, avoiding her eyes, refusing to answer. But he didn't need to. Mia understood. His silence said everything.
Mia began to think it through. Back when Edris was still studying abroad, their father kept reminding him to take up his role at their family-owned private hospital.
This very place, Chavan Private Hospital.
But what did Edris do? After graduating, he chose to begin practicing at a government hospital instead, claiming he needed more experience.
Far away, too—all the way in Mistvale City.
He'd been working there with no real intention of following their father's plans. And then, without warning, he showed up at home one night.
That very day, Edris had seemed a little off, but because the family was so happy to have him back, they brushed aside any uneasy thoughts.
Everything had gone smoothly for a week after Edris took up his position here, until a certain patient arrived in the emergency room.
At first, he froze before refusing to handle the case. Yet he kept asking about her—too many questions, too much worry in his eyes.
When Mia held the patient file and saw that the woman was from Mistvale City, everything finally connected.
So that was it. Her little brother had fallen for a married woman.