But Dave didn’t waver. After making the announcement, he threw himself right back into his war on drugs, showing the nation that he stood by his decision and remainedmitted to his broader mission, whether people liked it or not.


    His unwavering dedication to national welfare, his transparency, and his actions began to speak louder than the criticisms. Many citizens saw how hard he worked to protect the country and uphold justice, and their support grew stronger.


    Besides, it was undeniable: Hera had carried their nation’s g onto the world stage. Recognizing her achievements and standing by her was not only justified, it was necessary. It sent a clear message that both the people and the government were behind her, and that attempts to harm someone who brought pride to their country would never be ignored.


    When Hera woke up again, dusk was already settling in, and the sky outside had begun to darken. Minerva, Athena, and Liz had returned, but Alexandre and Xavier were still there. The girls were trying to convince the two men to head home, even just for a change of clothes, a warm meal, or a few hours of rest. But Xavier remained stubborn, refusing to leave Hera’s side. It had led to a quiet standoff between them.


    A faint grunt from Hera suddenly drew their attention back to the hospital bed. She was awake.


    Xavier immediately reached for the thermos beside him, unscrewed the lid, and poured some warm water into a cup. Supporting the back of her neck, he gently helped her drink.


    "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.


    Hera took a few slow sips, letting the water soothe her dry throat before replying. "Pretty good," she said with a small smile, but it was a lie.


    In truth, she felt like hell. Her broken arm and leg were throbbing with pain, and the itching beneath the cast was maddening. She wanted nothing more than to scratch it, but she couldn’t move much. So no, she definitely didn’t feel "pretty good."


    "Any updates about the incident earlier?" she asked, trying to shift the focus away from herself.


    "Not yet," Alexandre began, his tone serious, "but the investigation just confirmed the incident was man-made. Both your brake te and emergency brake were tampered with, and the fuel tank was leaking, too. Which means that even if you’d tried to continue thep and wait for rescue, the car would’ve still stalled or crashed once the fuel ran out. Either way, you were set up for an ident. The investigators concluded that your decision to stop and jump out was the best possible call—it saved your life."


    He paused. The weight of the words hung in the air. His father was heading the investigation and had been feeding him real-time updates, long before the information would hit the news or social media.


    "Yeah," Hera said quietly. "I know."


    Everyone stared at her.


    "You <i>knew</i>?" Alexandre asked, eyes widening.


    "During the firstp, when I realized the brakes weren’t working, I knew right away, someone wanted me dead," Hera said, her voice calm despite the weight of her words. "Then, I started thinking, if it were me trying to kill a driver, what would I do? I’d tamper with both the brakes and the fuel tank, quietly, carefully, so it wouldn’t be obvious at first. That way, the signs could be dismissed as mechanical failure while the real evidence gets buried during the investigation."


    She paused briefly, then continued, "So I started watching the fuel gauge. And sure enough, it was dropping far too fast. That confirmed it, if I didn’t act quickly, the car would either burst into mes or stall mid-track and still crash."


    She met their eyes. "My only chance was the finish line. I timed it, waited for the right moment, and just before the car mmed into the crash cushion, I jumped from the window. I aimed for the wedge of the cushion to avoid hitting the ground too hard. It was risky, but it was the only way I’d survive."