“We have to make sure the original medical records are legally admissible,” Hanz said as he lowered his sunglasses, studying Devandra’s face across the table.
In the corner of a small café tucked away in Blok M, the two men sat with serious expressions. On the table between them was a thick folder filled with photocopies of records from a hidden clinic Lyra had once visited.
Devandra nodded. “I’ve already contacted the company’s regular lawyer. But we need to tread carefully. If Lyra finds out this is going legal too early, she might tamper with the evidence.”
Hanz leaned back. “I was thinking the same. We need primary evidence from that clinic. Digital records, CCTV footage—if any. And a neutral witness testimony.”
Devandra stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched. “I’m not backing dow
