Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

"Where's mine?" Nash stepped up, hand outstretched in front of Fiona. "Why don't I get one?"

"Do you really expect a gift for coming in last place?" Fiona gave him a skeptical look. She couldn't help but place her hand on Nash's forehead, half-wondering if something was off with him. Otherwise, why would he be spouting such nonsense?

Nash shrugged off Fiona's hand with a huff. It dawned on him-he simply wasn't cut out for a gift!

As more students trickled into the classroom, most gave Tyler a thumbs-up. Tyler had really done Class 19 proud. Even walking out, they felt a surge of pride. No more mockery from other classes.

Students flocked around Tyler, all offering their congratulations.noveldrama

Fiona stood up and headed towards the school gates, quickly shooting a message to Keaton, asking for some time off.

Nash thought about following her out, but just then, the teacher walked in. Spotting the gift on Tyler's desk, Nash quickly refocused on his studies. If he managed to snag first place, would Fiona gift him something too? Not that he was after a gift! He just thought the present Fiona gave Tyler looked really cool. That was it!

It was a rare math class, and Nash was all in, unusually attentive.

...

When Fiona reached St. Mary's Hospital, the director was already in the office waiting for her. With him were a man wearing a black mask and sunglasses, and a strikingly pretty yet composed woman standing beside him.

"Director, how much longer are we supposed to wait? It's been almost an hour," Christina complained, clearly not thrilled about being there. Given their status, why should they hang around in a hospital? Plus, the reporters and media lurking outside who knows what stories might spin out if they were spotted.

"She's here," the director said, casting a glance at Christina before smiling at Fiona. "Ms. Fiona, we've brought you in because there's a patient plagued by chronic

nightmares. We've tried bestehet

alternative therapies and Western medicine, but nothing seems to help. It's only getting worse."

Fiona furrowed her brows as she settled into the office chair, eyeing the pair before her. Clad in a white lab coat, she donned a mask and sunglasses, twirling a black pen between her fingers.

The man in front of her appeared frail and pale where his face wasn't covered.

"Take off the mask, let me have a look," Fiona said, spinning the pen with a casual authority.

Her clear, commanding voice rang out. The woman beside the man immediately bristled, pointing a finger at Fiona with disdain.

"Judging by your voice, you can't be very old. Did you even graduate from college? Her skepticism was crystal clear as she eyed Fiona, her gaze unreadable. "Are your medical skills up to snuff?"

Fiona kept twirling her pen, opting not to respond. The director knew Fiona's silence meant she had no interest in engaging.

He glanced at Fiona, noticing she seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood today.

"This is our consulting doctor, and her abilities surpass our own. If she treats you, you'll surely be cured," the director explained.

But the woman wasn't buying it. How could a young girl, who looked barely out of high school, be more skilled than the doctors at St. Mary's? Who could believe such a thing?

"Director, we demand a doctor with more impressive credentials and proven skills. Allen is not your average person. If the treatment goes wrong, none of you will escape responsibility."

A blatant threat!