Be My Cure Now

Chapter 3 We Meet Again

The police arrived promptly and headed straight to the security room to review the footage from the previous night.

Unfortunately, some of the hospital's cameras were too outdated, and the one on the southwest corner was broken.

As a result, Dan's claims couldn't be proven true or false.

In the security room, it was just the officers and the two parties involved.

The officer scrutinized Clarice. "You're Clarice Ford?"

She was a bit taken aback but responded, "Yes, Officer."

"While you might not be at fault here, you don't have the best reputation," the officer said with a frown. "Just this month, we've had two domestic disputes reported, both because of you."

"What?"

"The wives found many pictures of you on their husbands' phones, leading to physical altercations. So, I suggest you be more cautious."

As the officer left, Dan burst into laughter. He had been sweating profusely earlier, and now the back of his shirt was damp.

"You filthy woman, acting all pure and innocent." He sneered. "Even if I was the one who harassed you first, it doesn't matter. Everyone sees me as the good guy and you as the loose woman. Without evidence, who would believe your side of the story?"

With a smug smile, Dan turned and left.

Clarice clenched her fists, taking a deep breath before releasing them.

She composed herself and made her way to the rehabilitation center for her rounds.

This incident wouldn't intimidate her. Her patients always came first.

That afternoon, Dan summoned Clarice to his office.

"Dr. Ford," he began smugly, "there's an opening for a health teacher at the local school. You'll be in charge of the students' health management."

Clarice's eyes blazed with anger.

She had worked tirelessly at this hospital to qualify for an independent research project. Transferring to a school would mean losing that opportunity forever.

Dan was clearly trying to force her to resign.

But there was only one hospital in town. If she quit, she'd either have to move or face unemployment.

He paused, a sleazy smile spreading across his face. "Of course, I'll give you an opportunity to beg for my forgiveness. If you apologize and agree to become my mistress..."

"You have no authority to transfer me. Only the director decides where I work," Clarice retorted, keeping her anger in check.

"Clarice!" Dan snarled. "Stop being so full of yourself! Even the director's daughter listens to me. In a few years, this hospital will be mine!"

Clarice's eyes bore into his with unflinching resolve. Fortunately, she'd turned on the recorder in her pocket, capturing his incriminating words.

"Then I wish you success in owning the hospital. And may you find comfort in the basement," she shot back before leaving the office.

Staying any longer was pointless.

Behind the closed door, Smith's shouts echoed, his realization dawning too late that the basement was the hospital's morgue.

"Excuse me, are you Dr. Clarice Ford?" A well-dressed young man approached her in the hallway, holding a phone.

"I'm Mr. Ivan Morris's assistant. We need an experienced rehabilitation doctor to visit Mr. Morris' estate. I've already spoken to the director. Once you confirm, we can head over."

Dan stormed out of his office, catching only the tail end of the assistant's sentence. "Who are you?" he demanded impatiently. "Clarice has been fired."

The assistant's polite smile vanished, and he pressed the speakerphone button, allowing the director's voice to ring out loud and clear.

"Dan! What nonsense are you spouting? I'm still the director here, so stop bossing around like a fool! Dr. Ford is our best rehab specialist. Step aside and don't interfere with Mr. Morris' treatment!"

"Yes, Mr. Jones. I'll cooperate immediately," Clarice replied swiftly and headed to her office to prepare.

'Mr. Morris?'

Rumor had it that Ivan Morris was a mysterious billionaire who had just moved to town, possibly planning to invest a large sum in their hospital.

Dan's face twisted with envy. Such a golden opportunity falling into Clarice's lap seemed unfair to him.

Eager to ingratiate himself, he plastered on a flattering smile. "Sir, the director has been deceived by this woman. She has a terrible reputation here. I'm also skilled in rehabilitation. Let me treat Mr. Morris instead."

"You?" The assistant's smile returned. Dan was encouraged and wanted to brag about himself a bit more to secure this job.

But soon, his confidence faltered, and a sense of unease crept over him because the assistant's smile was rather weird as if filled with mockery.

"Last night, Mr. Morris knocked you out with a single punch," the assistant said coolly. "Perhaps doctors like you should work on their physical fitness. A strong body leads to better performance, don't you think?"

Without another word, the assistant turned away. "Oh, and by the way, I was the one who carried you into the hospital last night. No need to thank me."

Dan's face instantly turned ashen.

Rain poured down outside, and the Morris estate felt damp and cold.

The assistant handed Clarice a file.

"Mr. Morris recently moved here for recovery, but the rainy season has aggravated his condition. On wet days, his legs ache severely, so please do your best to help him."

Clarice skimmed through the file, absorbing her new patient's details.

Ivan had been shot in the leg, and the wound hadn't received timely treatment, leading to infection. Though treated later, nerve damage and chronic pain remained.

This mansion was a clear sign of Ivan's wealth, but why had he suffered a gunshot wound? And why hadn't he received immediate care?

"By the way," the assistant added, "Mr. Morris prefers dim lighting. The meeting room will be dark, so please try to adjust."

His words only deepened Clarice's sense of unease about her mysterious patient.

As they entered the meeting room, it was indeed shrouded in darkness, with only the moon casting a faint glow on a sofa by the window.

The man sitting there had a broad, commanding presence, occupying half the sofa.

His upper body remained obscured in shadows, making it impossible to discern his features.

His attire appeared luxurious, exuding a soft shimmer under the moonlight.

His long legs stretched out lazily, and a ring on his finger glinted coldly in the dark.

A raspy voice broke the silence, low and chilling enough to send a shiver down Clarice's spine.

"Dr. Ford, we meet again."