Magnolia General Hospital.
Alistair Hart leaned against the headboard, skillfully holding a peeled apple. “This apple is pretty good,” he remarked. “Sweet.”
The doctor next to him smiled obsequiously. “Of course. It’s from a special supply. Alistair, your ‘playing the victim’ and ‘nostalgia’ combo was brilliant. I saw that kid Dorian leaving in tears. I bet that girl will soften up and come back soon.”
“Hmph, that girl is just a stubborn bitch, just like her mother who died young,” Alistair spat out a piece of apple peel, his eyes gleaming with cunning. “As long as she comes back, you give her that drug, and I’ll have her transfer the patent rights to me. I’ll sell them, and the Hart family will be saved!”
Bang!
The door to the hospital room was kicked open.
Alistair’s hand trembled in shock, and half the apple fell onto the blanket.
He instinctively tried to fake his paralysis, but when he saw it was Dorian who had burst in, his movement froze halfway.
Dorian stood in the doorway, soaked to the bone.
In his hand, he still held the analysis report Felix had printed.
He looked at his father—so agile, his face ruddy, showing no signs of the “paralysis” he was supposed to have—and felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
“Dad…” Dorian’s voice trembled. “Your hand… it’s better?”
Alistair froze for a second, then his eyes darted around. He decided to drop the act.
“Since you’ve seen it, I can’t be bothered to pretend anymore.” Alistair leaned back, his gaze turning cold and sinister. “That’s right, I was faking it. The letters were fake, too. So what?”

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