Tyrone remained composed and assertive. He looked at the doctor with piercing eyes, a subtle smile on his face. "Those who adapt their actions to the circumstances are wise. Would you prefer to cross me or Galilea?"

"I'Ul reveal the truth. Her burn area is less than 1%, with merely two blisters on her leg. I didn't choose to do this, it was at the request of her and her agent. The medical report lacks any signature or stamp, rendering it effectively invalid.”

"In other words, she was not in a coma at all."

"She appeared perfectly healthy when she was admitted yesterday."

"Alright, I understand. Thank you.”

Tyrone rose to his feet and left the office.

He recollected his hospital visit the previous night; it was nearing ten o'clock. Galilea was awake in the morning, confident her secret would remain concealed.

Outside the patient's room, Tyrone stood in the corridor, gaze fixed on the distant sky.

Had he not done his own investigation, he would've never believed Galilea and her agent's ruse.

What was their motive?

He had a hunch, but yearned for her side of the story.

Tyrone stepped into the patient's room.

Galilea smiled. “Tyrone, you've returned. You've been away quite some time."

Tyrone responded indifferently, "I went out for a walk. Any Lingering discomfort?"

"It's painful. I need you by my side. Your presence soothes me."

If he didn't know the truth, he would have wholeheartedly supported her.

But now that he knew she was pretending, he found her to be hypocritical.

She needed to polish her performance skills.

Tyrone asked calmly, "Where exactly does it hurt?"

“Back, waist, legs, shins," she enumerated.