Daisy, still lying on the medical bed in the White House's advanced medical wing, suddenly spoke up from the side. "I am also fine… literally," she said, her voice surprisingly strong.
She touched her bandaged stomach lightly and frowned in confusion. "I don't even feel like I got hurt. If there wasn't a bandage here, I'd think it was all a bad dream."
The lead doctor, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a white coat, shook her head firmly. "Agent Daisy, even if you're feeling better, we still need to run a full check-up. We saw the initial reports—significant blood loss and a deep laceration. Protocol requires scans and monitoring."
Daisy nodded reluctantly, though she still looked puzzled. "Alright… but I need to go to the washroom first. Excuse me."
With that, Daisy slipped off the bed and walked toward the private bathroom attached to the luxurious medical suite. She moved with surprising ease for someone who had been gravely injured just hours earlier.
