The villa's medical wing was bathed in harsh fluorescent light when Sebastian Qiao stepped into the surgical theater at dawn. Surgical masks and gowns transformed his usually impeccable attire into the same sterile white as the staff surrounding the OR table. Zora Su lay unconscious beneath the translucent drape, her chest rising in even, sedated breaths. Her face, still pale from the last therapy session, bore the quiet promise of the experimental graft Dr. Lin had designed to bolster her failing heart.
Dr. Lin Yuan stood at the head of the table, scanning monitors that displayed Zora's vitals: heart rate faltering around fifty beats per minute, blood pressure low but within operable range. He met Sebastian's eyes, voice soft yet firm behind his mask. “Cardiac grafting will proceed in tw
