Eleanor spent over an hour on the handover. Lost in thought, she pushed open her office door and froze. Before her, a figurey fully clothed on the sofa.


    She frowned slightly but lightened her steps as she returned to her desk. She still had a few documents to write, which meant she''d have to share the room with him.


    A ray of sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow over the man on the sofa. In that moment, he had shed the sharp,manding presence of a business elite and looked as peaceful as a child.


    Eleanor was typing away when she heard a faint murmur from the sofa. "Ellie, don''t go."


    Her hands froze on the keyboard for a few seconds. She looked over at the sofa, butn was still asleep, his brow furrowed as if caught in a bad dream.


    Her thoughts were disrupted. She frowned at the sleeping man, then forced herself to refocus on the keyboard. Once her work was done, she stood up and left.


    At two in the afternoon, Ian woke up. He nced at the empty desk across from him; Eleanor had clearly already left for the neural interfaceb.


    The cool water slid down his throat, tasting unexpectedly sweet. Then, he spotted a pen next to the desk, one Eleanor had obviously left behind.


    As soon as Eleanor arrived at theb, she received a call from Principal Maxwell. He sent her a file of patient analysis data, which detailed various treatment ns for a patient in a deepa—as if a specific person was already waiting for treatment. With Garth, Ian, and Principal Maxwell all showing such interest, Eleanor began to suspect there might actually be a key figure whose life depended on this tech.


    But who on earth would that be?


    Eleanor could only guess it was some high-ranking individual in Kingston, someone so important that even Garth was involved.


    The thought made her heart tighten. If that was the case, then this was truly a matter of life and death.


    Eleanor immediately began to study the files from Principal Maxwell. The more she read, the more certain she was of her theory-the treatment ns were so precise they seemed tailor-made for a specificatose patient.


    Moreover, they targeted a rare type of neuronal damage.


    A short whileter, Principal Maxwell sent her a file on some of his university''s research—cutting-edge technologies not yet made public, which would help advance her work.


    Callie was thrilled to hear that Eleanor was back. Later, Joel Kingsley also found time toe and see her.


    "Is the other experiment all wrapped up?" Joel asked with concern.


    "Yes, it''s mostly finished. I''ll be working here from now on," Eleanor confirmed.


    "If you need help with anything, just ask," Joel said.


    Eleanor didn''t say much about her current project. The cloud of suspicion in her mind grew denser; all clues pointed to one fact-there was indeed a person of special status waiting for treatment.


    On the third day of Eleanor''s intensive research, a fierce debate erupted at Goodwin & Co. headquarters.


    Eleanor had received an email from the board of directors that morning, informing her that a meeting would be held to discuss further investment in the Neural Interface Project.


    She had initially nned to skip it, but considering the pressuren would face from the shareholders and her own yow to achieve


    breakthrough within three years, she felt she should be there to face it


    with him.


    When Eleanor arrived at Goodwin & Co., the receptionist warmly greeted her and led her to the boardroom.


    Gavin Young saw her and immediately said, "Miss Sutton, you''re here. Please,e in."


    Eleanor stepped inside and nced atn, seated at the head of the table. He wore sses today, giving him a deep, sharp look, but his gaze softened when it fell on her.