The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 143

"I have an on-site survey at a partner hospital," Garrison said without looking back.

"Then... can you come home early tonight?" Quinn's voice called out from behind, laced with hopeful expectation. "I ordered a cake, let's have dinner together! We have to celebrate your thirtieth birthday!"

Garrison's footsteps faltered for a second, but he eventually replied:

"Alright."

*

Evermore Medical Center was located on a quiet street in the East District.

When his car rolled to a stop, Garrison glanced out the window. It was a pristine white, five-story building with lush ginkgo trees lining the entrance. It looked less like a hospital and more like an exclusive, high-end private club.

Assistant Dawson was already waiting by the doors and hurried over as soon as Garrison stepped out.

"Dr. Foster, Director Thorne and his team are waiting inside."

Garrison nodded and walked in.

The moment he stepped into the grand lobby, he was mildly taken aback by the sheer spectacle.

A plush red carpet stretched all the way from the entrance to the elevators. Two rows of doctors and nurses in pristine white coats stood in perfect formation. At the very front was a silver-haired, ruddy-faced middle-aged man—undoubtedly the director. Several other executives flanked him, all wearing practiced, professional smiles.

"Professor Foster!" Director Leland Thorne practically sprinted forward, grabbing Garrison's hands and shaking them enthusiastically. "It is an absolute honor! Having you here to survey our facility brings us immense prestige!"

Garrison gave a polite nod. "You're too kind, Director Thorne."

"Please, allow me to introduce the core members of our hospital," Director Thorne said, stepping aside to present his team.

"This is our Vice President, Wesley Rhodes."

"This is our Chief of Surgery, Chief Miller."

"And from Cardiology..."

Garrison nodded respectfully to each one, his gaze sweeping past the sea of faces.

He pushed open a set of double doors. "This is our newly acquired MRI machine from Germany. It boasts a 30% higher resolution than standard models."

Garrison glanced at the machine and nodded in approval.

By the time the tour concluded, it was nearly noon. Director Thorne escorted him into an elegantly decorated private dining room—ostensibly the staff cafeteria, though it rivaled the finest Michelin-star restaurants in the city.

Surrounded by the hospital's top physicians, the lunch was a lively affair. Director Thorne repeatedly brought up potential partnerships—hoping Garrison would conduct regular training seminars, requesting that Project Vitas prioritize their VIP patients, and suggesting a long-term academic exchange.

Garrison responded with flawless, polite diplomacy. Seminars were possible, pending schedule availability. Patients would need to go through standard clinical trial protocols. Exchanges could be discussed in the future.

His answers were perfectly measured, professional, and entirely aloof.

After the meal, Garrison excused himself to leave.

He had only taken a few steps down the corridor when a voice called out behind him.

"Professor Foster, please wait a moment."