“Miss Veilthorn.”“Family of Mrs. Veilthorn?”Two voices called out to her at the same time.One belonged to Jorah Damaric.The other came from a man dressed in surgical scrubs who had just emerged through the double doors leading from the operating room.Crystal helped Maera to her feet and, without asking a single question, guided her toward the doctor instead of Jorah.“How is my grandmother, Doctor?” Maera asked anxiously.The handsome young physician—the same doctor who had been fighting to save her grandmother from the very beginning—looked at her with a calm expression. Before answering, his gaze briefly shifted past her shoulder toward Jorah, who had somehow moved close enough to stand beside them without her noticing.“The surgery was successful, and Mrs. Veilthorn's condition is now stable,” he said. “The anesthesia will take a few more hours to wear off, but overall, your grandmother is going to be just fine.”
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