Although sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on Steven's face, his weary appearance remained unchanged. Addison sighed softly. She put on her mask and quickly shifted into work mode. Starting with his pupils, eye muscles, and corneas, she then moved on to check his ears, nose, and throat. Steven's tongue and head showed noticeable scars—clear remnants of his struggles. After making a quick note of these physical conditions, Addison picked up her instruments and moved on to check his heart rate, rhythm, pulse, and blood pressure in both arms. Outside the ward, Lance stood near the window, initially focused on his phone, handling company matters. However, when his gaze unintentionally drifted through the glass, he found himself unable to look away. The sunlight was perfect, casting a soft glow across Addison's half-turned figure. There was a relaxed ease about her movements, but the pristine white coat she wore added an air of precision and seriousness.It was an unusual balance—a quiet tranquility mixed with untamed energy, like a force that seemed close enough to touch yet impossible to grasp. She reminded him of the sting of a sunburn after too much time in the light—captivating, but potentially painful if approached too closely. Without realizing it, his shadow stretched and merged with hers in the sunlight. ... Some time passed before Addison finally pushed open the ward door and stepped out. "How is it? Is Grandpa's condition better now?" Lance asked, setting down his phone. For a moment, Addison thought she saw something softer flicker across his expression, but she did not dwell on it. "It's not good," she said plainly, pulling off her mask. Her tone left no room for sugarcoating. She did not know how much Virginia had given the old man, but whatever it was, the dosage was far beyond lethal levels. Lance's face darkened visibly."Well ... " Lance began as if trying to ask for more details, but before he could finish, Addison had already anticipated his question. Without a word, she lowered her head and handed him the report she had just finished organizing. Lance, being the CEO of a pharmaceutical company, was not an expert in medicine, but he could understand the basics of the report. He took it silently, flipping through it page by page. With each turn of the page, his brows furrowed deeper and deeper, until his expression was so dark it seemed like a storm was brewing. Addison observed him for a moment, feeling that his heavy expression was too overwhelming. The tension he exuded was almost contagious, making her feel a twinge of sympathy. "It's okay," she said gently. "These things are nothing for a Divine Healer. "You don't have to worry too much—Mr. Steven will be fine." To reassure him, she reached out and lightly patted his shoulder, her tone soft and comforting. Matthew had lived a long life, and while the situation was not ideal, it was still within his control. She knew her grandpa's capabilities better than anyone. There was no need for Lance to carry so much worry. However, as her delicate hand touched his shoulder, Lance froze. His entire body stiffened. Their eyes met. In that instant, Addison realized what she had just done. Her hand shot back with a quick "swoosh," her face flushing slightly. The moment she put on the white coat, she had unconsciously stepped into her role as a doctor, her natural empathy kicking in. It had been an entirely instinctive, professional gesture. However, from Lance's perspective, she had probably come across as overly familiar, like she was comforting the family of a patient. Would Lance misunderstand that simple shoulder touch?