The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 297

As he spoke, he turned to Dawson. "Dawson, clean up my office."

Dawson: ???

Dr. Foster, didn't you literally just ban me from touching your stuff?!

*

The two of them stepped out of the office, walked down the corridor, and headed to the reception room on the second floor.

Calling it a reception room was generous; it was essentially just a converted patient room. It held an old sofa, a coffee table, and two wicker chairs. A rusty water cooler stood in the corner, and a thriving pothos plant sat on the windowsill.

On the floor next to the plant sat a trash can containing an empty cup of instant mac and cheese.

Garrison grabbed two paper cups from the cooler and brewed some tea. It was the cheapest kind of supermarket tea bags. He pushed one cup toward Vanessa and sat down on the sofa with his own.

Vanessa took the cup, blew on the steam, took a tiny sip, and then set it down on the coffee table.

She remembered that Garrison came from one of the most prominent, wealthy families in the capital. Even though they had kept a lower profile in recent years, their fortune was still massive. He shouldn't have been reduced to eating instant meals and drinking cheap tea.

"Are you having trouble... keeping the hospital afloat?" Vanessa asked.

Garrison shook his head. "It's just a standard private clinic. It's small, so it barely makes a profit, but it doesn't lose much either."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify