In the medical office, George Stanford began preparations after finishing breakfast.
When Sophie Sullivan arrived, George waved her over, "Fiona, how do you feel?"
"I feel pretty good."
Sophie sat down in front of his desk, and George looked at her for a while before saying, "Didn't sleep well last night?"
Sophie nodded, "Too excited, couldn't sleep."
"You...you..."
George shook his head with a mix of amusement and understanding; after all, this was the last chance for surgery, and her restored appearance was within reach.
Who wouldn't be excited?
The nurse came to the office door, knocked, and asked, "Dr. Stanford, can we begin preparing for surgery?"
"Yes, we can."
The nurse nodded in understanding, looked at Sophie and said, "Maniac, please come with me."
Sophie stood up, a smile touched the corners of her eyes and brows, and she gave George a deep look, "Old Mr. Stanford, my face depends on you."
George snorted arrogantly and waved his hand, "I know."
