“Oliver Caetano, right?” A man approached, extending his hand in greeting. “I'm Dr. Tácio Duarte. My assistant told me you had already arrived, so I came as quickly as I could.”“Oh, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry for arriving early—it's just that I'm a bit anxious.”“I understand how you feel, Oliver. If you'd like, we can go to my office now.”“Of course, let's go.”As I followed the doctor, he asked,“Were you heading to the kitchen? Did you want something to drink?”“I was just going to grab something to pass the time.”“Don't worry, I'll have something brought to you.” We passed by the reception desk, and the doctor spoke to the secretary. “Rafaela, please bring coffee for me and Mr. Oliver.”“I'd prefer water, thank you.”“And would your companion like something to drink?”He was referring to Denise.“No, thank you, I'm fine,” Denise replied.We entered Dr. Tácio's office. He was very polite—and young, probably around my age. Completely different from what I had ima
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