Something flashed through her mind.
But Holly Sinclair couldn't quite grasp it.
Just then, the examination was over.
"Dr. Quincy, how is my nephew today?"
Isabella Sinclair immediately stood up and walked over, asking anxiously.
"Very good. At this rate, the patient should be waking up very soon," Ian Quincy said as he picked up the chart at the foot of the bed to record Noah Sinclair's condition.
"Really?"
"Really?!"
Isabella Sinclair and Holly Sinclair asked in unison.
Holly Sinclair's eyes instantly reddened, and she was overcome with joy.
"Yes."
Ian Quincy gave a faint nod, his sharp gaze sizing her up.
"Thank you, Dr. Quincy." Holly Sinclair was ecstatic, her voice trembling with excitement.
"Hand."
Ian Quincy suddenly uttered a single, abrupt word.
Holly Sinclair's delicate brows furrowed slightly. She didn't understand what he meant.
But seeing his gaze land on her hand, she subconsciously held out her left hand.
"The other one."
