Exhaustion overwhelmed Camila, her eyelids growing heavy.

She eventually closed her eyes.

With that, she succumbed to sleep's embrace.

Yet, Isaac couldn't sleep.

In the past, his sleeplessness stemmed from longing for Camila's presence.

Now, he tossed and turned, discomforted by his unfulfilled desires. The scars on her face reminded him of the moment she pushed him away as the bomb threatened to detonate, despite her belief that he didn't love her.

Camila could be so foolish at times!

Her naivety both endeared and saddened him.

The seminar kicked off.

To avoid causing alarm or drawing attention, Camila sought assistance from a makeup artist to conceal her scars.

Dressed appropriately, the scars were rendered nearly invisible.

Though she hailed from Azmar, she worked at the esteemed Madeline Research Center. Seated beside another doctor in a designated area, Camila settled in.

The central area had three seats: one for the sponsor, one for Coralie from Madeline Research Center, and the last for the vice director of Hammaslahti Research Center.

Everyone took their respective places.

In the expansive hall, ambitious cardiac experts congregated.

It was a gathering celebrating medical research, yet marred by interests and greed.

Camila unscrewed her water bottle and took a sip. As she set it down, her gaze caught sight of a familiar figure in the corner.

Curiosity piqued, she rose from her seat and made her way toward the enigmatic individual.

And there she saw...

Harrell, eager to infiltrate incognito, craned his neck, scanning his surroundings, seeking a clandestine opportunity to slip in unnoticed “Mr. Chavez," Camila called out.

Hearing the voice, he turned around in surprise.

He hadn't counted on seeing someone at that moment.

He was so frightened that he kept taking backward steps

He clutched onto the wall, desperately preventing himself from stumbling backward.

In a trembling voice, he stammered, “Who might you be?"