Chapter 900

"This is quite common." Evelyn Carter closed the medical chart, her voice gentle yet firm. "Many post-operative patients experience similar somatic reactions."

The patient's pale fingers clutched the blanket edge. "But I feel like something's crawling in my lungs..."

"Have you been taking your immunosuppressants on schedule?" Evelyn's gaze swept over the pillbox on the bedside table.

The previously silent husband quickly nodded. "Twice daily, right when the alarm goes off."

Evelyn gave a slight nod. "Then it's fine. If symptoms persist, you can contact Dr. Porter for a follow-up." As she turned to leave, muffled sobs reached her ears.

"Dr. Carter!" Olivia Lightfoot bounded over like a startled rabbit. "That patient didn't give you trouble, did she?"

Evelyn shook her head, though her brow furrowed slightly. "Her condition is worse than expected."

"Could it actually be medical malpractice?" Olivia gasped. "You and Dr. Porter are the steadiest hands in this hospital!"

The antiseptic scent lingered in the corridor. Evelyn stood before an incubator, fingertips lightly touching the glass. The tiny occupant, no larger than her palm, had a wrinkled face that softened her heart.

"Hang in there, little one," she whispered. A subtle flutter from her own rounded belly answered, like some magical response.

Alexander Hamilton appeared carrying a steaming thermal bag. Evelyn watched him unpack the meal containers before finally speaking. "You really don't need to deliver meals daily."

His elegant fingers paused midair. Sunlight slanted through the window, casting shadows beneath his lashes. "Am I disturbing you?"

The tone reminded Evelyn of a drenched golden retriever. Rubbing her temples, she said, "This hospital's gossip spreads faster than medical records."

Alexander's eyes suddenly brightened. "Then I'll inspect your cafeteria?"

"What?"

"Employee benefits survey," he deadpanned with fabricated seriousness. "Hamilton Group is renovating our staff dining facilities."

Two hours later, Alexander returned looking grave. "Is your hospital facing funding issues?"

Evelyn nearly choked on her water. "We have the most advanced medical equipment in the city!"

"Then why does your cafeteria lack proper ventilation?" His suit cuffs carried cooking oil aromas. "The braised pork could cure jerky, and the stir-fried vegetables taste like lawn clippings."

Evelyn unexpectedly laughed. "That's precisely what patients need. Strong flavors replenish electrolytes, while mild ones soothe stomachs." She scooped congee. "This porridge is perfectly balanced."

Next noon, Henry Lowell delivered the meal box with a mysterious wink. "Mr. Hamilton personally cooked this congee. He's been watching the clay pot since 4 AM."

Lotus seed and lily aromas wafted up when she lifted the lid. Seeing the floating goji berries, Evelyn felt her heart swell as if steeped in warm water.