It was Isabella

Mr. Whitmore looked towards the door. Wolf was sitting in a wheelchair, pushed into the living room by a woman. She glanced around the luxurious room, then timidly lowered her head. She had never seen such a big house or so many important people before.

"So you must be Mr. Wolf?" Mr. Whitmore started.

Wolf nodded, glancing at Isabella. "Yes, it’s me. What did you want to see me about, sir?"

Mr. Whitmore smiled kindly and said, "Nothing major. I just wanted to ask how your recovery is going. What did the doctor say? After all, you were injured at our company's construction site. We should show some concern. If you have any difficulties, please let us know. We'll do our best to help."

Wolf smiled politely, then sighed regretfully. "The doctor said everything else is fine, but my legs... whether I can stand again depends on luck. If the recovery goes well, I might have a c