CHAPTER 58: CHAPTER 58: DID YOU KNOW ALL ALONG?

"Annie, I need to head back to the TV station to write a new proposal. The new director seems like a reincarnated nitpicker, rejecting three of my proposal reports. If making a show were really that easy, I’d have already funded a hundred fresh-face actors for a daily ocean romp!"

Ann Vaughn chuckled at Susie Sommers’ complaints, and only got in the car to leave after she hung up.

It made sense; Susie was a program planner, with seniors above pressuring her and peers eyeing her success. She’d even joked to Ann about losing three pounds trying to come up with a universally appealing show.

Compared to her, Ann Vaughn was much more at ease.

As for Mrs. Whitlock, the meeting was slated for tomorrow, giving her some time to prepare.

Feeling a bit relieved, Ann Vaughn thought as she walked towards the small clinic.

Unexpectedly, she saw a familiar car parked at the clinic entrance.

She hesitated, then walked over to see a tall figure leaning against the wooden sign of the clinic, arms crossed, his elegant, cool face particularly striking.

"Cyrus Hawthorne...?"

Ann Vaughn’s eyes widened at the sight of him, puzzled as to why he was here.

Upon hearing her voice, Cyrus Hawthorne opened his slightly closed eyes and looked at her, "How does a clinic that opens sporadically stay in business?"

Ann Vaughn felt a bit embarrassed. The clinic’s operating hours were indeed a bit erratic, but the extraction of medicines inside was too critical for her to easily hire help.

With this in mind, she hurried over to open the clinic’s door, switched to the ’open’ sign, and asked him, "Are you here for something?"

"Yes." Cyrus responded lightly and stepped into the clinic, where the faint pleasant scent of medicine, similar to the one on Ann Vaughn, filled the air.

"By the way, since you threw away the medicine I gave to Grandpa last time, let me get a new one. Wait here for a moment." Ann Vaughn put down her bag and walked into the back room.

Fortunately, she had prepared two doses, originally intended as a backup, which now proved useful.

Cyrus gave a slight nod and his gaze swept over the clinic’s orderly arrangements, his narrow eyes reflecting a thoughtful glimmer.

His eyes slowly settled on the consultation table. He walked over, picked up a medical record book placed there, and casually leafed through it.

The book documented the condition of each patient seen, with beautifully executed and graceful handwriting— a style developed not overnight but over time.

Just then, Ann Vaughn came out from the back room with a bottle of medicine, "This is the medicine I wanted Grandpa to drink that day. You had something similar when you were injured, so you know its effectiveness well."

Cyrus put down the record book, calmly took the medicine bottle.

"I’m here today for this." He looked at the clear liquid in the bottle, then placed a card on the table, "This is the payment. Thank you."

Ann Vaughn stared at the card for a long moment before slowly smiling, a bitter expression lurking beneath.

The reason she did all this was that Grandpa Hawthorne had been kind to her, and she wanted to repay him.

This card was no different from crushing her sincerity into a pile of profit-driven dust— blunt and hurtful.

Those who count transactions should stay far away from him, yet Ann Vaughn was like a moth to a flame, yearning for that bit of warmth.

Little did she know, to Cyrus Hawthorne, emotions that could be resolved with money spared him a lot of trouble and effort.

-

Old Master Hawthorne woke up the day after taking the medicine.

However, he refused to see any visitors from The Hawthorne Family, insisting on seeing Ann Vaughn.

Ann Vaughn had been hoping for Old Master Hawthorne to wake up, yet she felt a little uneasy now.

If she had been more decisive before, directly telling Old Master Hawthorne about the poisoning, perhaps he wouldn’t have had to go through such a dangerous ordeal.