Chapter Four

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The automatic doors slid open, and I stepped inside the physio clinic

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The automatic doors slid open, and I stepped inside the physio clinic. The space was inviting, with large windows letting in natural light that spilled across the polished wooden floors. The air smelled faintly of eucalyptus, giving the place a soothing ambiance. To my left, there was a spacious waiting area furnished with comfortable chairs and a few low tables stacked with magazines.

On the right, I could see an open workout area with various exercise equipment, including resistance bands, balance balls, and weights neatly arranged on racks. Patients were engaged in different activities, guided by attentive therapists. Some were doing stretches on mats, while others worked on balance exercises under the watchful eyes of their instructors. The atmosphere was filled with a quiet determination, punctuated by the occasional encouragement from a therapist.

As I walked towards the reception, the walls caught my attention; they were adorned with motivational posters and framed certificates showcasing the clinic's achievements and the qualifications of its staff. The reception desk itself was sleek and modern, with a smooth granite surface and a touch-screen check-in system. Behind the desk, shelves were neatly lined with brochures and informational pamphlets about various treatments and services offered.

I looked back to see Carlos standing by the automatic hand sanitizer, a bemused expression on his face. Turning back to the reception desk, I noticed the young man behind the counter, his eyes wide with shock.

"Oh my—oh my god—oh my god," he whispered, standing up abruptly. "Nathaniel Reid, I—I—urm... am your biggest fan."

I managed a tired but genuine smile. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

The receptionist's excitement was palpable, and he seemed to struggle to compose himself. "How can I help you today?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly with excitement.

"We're here to see Nara Smith. It's an emergency."

The young man nodded quickly, his professional demeanour returning. "Of course, Mr. Reid. One moment, please." He picked up the phone and made a quick call, speaking in hushed tones. "Nara will be with you shortly."

I glanced down at my phone—no new messages from the Kitty, which was a good sign. Every time Kitty did message, it wasn't good.

We waited in the quiet of the waiting room. Carlos was on the phone with his wife, who was convinced he was cheating on her. Carlos was anything but a cheater; his wife, though? That was a different story.

"No baby, no I didn't fucking cheat on you—oh how ironic," Carlos whispered, his voice laced with frustration. The people in the waiting room looked at him with concern, their murmurs creating a low hum around us. "Are you throwing my clothes! Anastasia! Wait! Come on baby."

I leaned back in my seat, trying to block out Carlos's strained conversation. Carlos finally ended his call, slumping back into his chair with a sigh. "Sorry about that," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "She thinks I'm off having some grand affair."

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