The next day, Citrine went to visit Vester with Sebastian Vesper.
Vester was in good spirits. Despite just coming out of surgery, he actually looked healthier and more energized than before.
When he saw Citrine, his expression softened noticeably.
Citrine didn’t notice the change in his eyes. She settled onto the sofa, her tone casual and professional, as if she were just checking in on another patient.
“How are you feeling? Any discomfort anywhere?”
Vester shook his head. “No, nothing hurts.”
Citrine offered a gentle reminder, “Just stick to the rehab plan I laid out for you. If all goes well, you should be able to get out of that wheelchair in about three months.”
“Three months.” For a moment, hope flickered in Vester’s eyes. He looked at Citrine, his gratitude unmistakable. “Thank you, Dr. Carmichael.”
“I’m just doing my job.” Citrine’s expression remained composed, but as a doctor, seeing her patient’s steady recovery brought her real satisfaction.
She had given him a second chance, and Vester was deeply thankful. He hadn’t felt this happy in years.
Of course, he was well aware this wasn’t charity—there were strings attached.
Thinking back to their last conversation, Vester’s face grew serious. “Dr. Carmichael, I imagine you’ve got something you want to say to me?”
He hesitated, then added, “Those three conditions from the start—and the promise I made the other night—they all still stand.”
Citrine smiled faintly. “Since you’re being so straightforward, Mr. Vester, I won’t beat around the bush either.”
She fixed her gaze on him and asked, “Do you know anything about Mirage Cay?”
At the mention of those words, Vester’s relaxed demeanor vanished; his whole body tensed, and an unmistakable look of disgust flashed in his eyes.
He glanced at Citrine, clearly guessing at her intentions.
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