Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities novel (Jennifer and Ivan) novel Chapter 1146

His hospital needed patient doctors like her.
Doctors should treat patients with this kind of attitude.
Sometimes a word of reassurance can make the patient feel much better. Combined with drugs, they would heal quicker.
For that, Rowan was content about Daphne.
After Rowan left, several female doctors came over.
They were all wondering why Rowan had been watching outside the door for so long but didn't go in.
When they passed the door, they saw Daphne communicating with patients inside.
"So Rowan was watching Dr. Wells just now?" Some people couldn't help smiling, covering their mouths, as if they understood something.
They walked hurriedly and couldn't help whispering, "Dr. Wells and Rowan seem to have a good relationship."
"Good? It is said that they lived together before. But to save time, he rents her an apartment nearby the hospital."
"The house is rented by Rowan?"
"Yes, the landlord is my aunt."
"Then I guess, Dr. Wells is very likely to become Mrs. Watson."
"Yes, they are a good match."
The two chatted very deeply and walked slowly. Daphne, who came out and passed by them overheard their conversation.
"You..." Daphne asked softly with suspicion, "Were you talking about me just now?"
There was no blame in her look.
The two nurses froze and looked at her in disbelief. When did she come out? What had she heard?
They felt embarrassed, yet seeing Dr. Wells' easy-going face, one of them smiled and said, "We were saying that you and Rowan are a perfect match."
Daphne looked serious as she reminded, "Don't gossip in the hospital. We should focus on the patients. If the dean heard this, he will probably fire you guys."
The nurse was scared!
"Okay, thanks for the reminder, Dr. Wells." They were grateful. After saluting her respectfully, they walked away.
New York, USA.
After Claire got out of Tristan's car, she quickly found the event in Times Square. This time, the people who attended were all leaders of the Writers' Association.
Some were very prestigious writers in the industry.
Claire had met them before and added them on Facebook. Although they were not very close, they knew each other at least.
They were all easy-going and modest.
So Claire didn't feel embarrassed at all. Although she was the youngest, she quickly integrated into the group. And people took good care of her.
"Claire, Mr. Wilson is going to meet an old friend tonight, will you accompany him?" A middle-aged female writer found her, "He likes to be quiet and is a bit old, so only goes to four or five representatives."
"Who? Is he also a writer? " asked Claire.
"Jill Burton."
"The winner of the last Nobel Prize in Literature?" Claire was so excited that her heart missed half a beat, "Mr. Burton?"
"Yes."
Claire raised her hand and said with great honor, "Sure."
"Okay, it's a deal." The female author waved to Mr. Wilson, "Claire is in!"
"OK."
Although Claire was young, her works were quite meaningful, so everyone in the association appreciates her very much.
At dusk.
At the peaceful castle-style manor which looked golden under the sunset. This place with large lawns was Jill's residence.
The most distinctive feature was the wooden piles left after the removal of the old pier.
They stand in a piece of water behind the manor, and many seagulls would stand on the wooden stakes. Under the smudge of the setting sun, their feathers were so beautiful.
There was a Lamborghini parked in the yard.