Griffith Squire's injuries had been healing for about a week, and by now he was almost fully recovered. The remaining process would just require long-term rest.
The man searched all the way here, asking several young nurses along the way, only to vaguely know that Aurora Coldwell had gone down to the small garden.
"This is the most handsome patient I've seen this year. I really want his phone number," a few young nurses he stopped to ask for directions gathered together, their eyes glowing as they suppressed the screams stuck in their throats.
"Don't get starry-eyed. I saw him coming down from the fifth floor, and the special care wards up there aren't just something anyone can afford to stay in."
"Wow, that makes it even more necessary to pursue him. You wouldn't believe the kind of losers I've been dating lately. This guy, handsome with a touch of wickedness, about 190 cm tall, and with a deep voice to boot—my gosh, he's simply a dream guy."
