In the quaint town of Riverdale, nestled <b>within </b>the confines of a research institute, a man just finished a omeling night of experiments. His hands reached for his <b>phone</b><b>, </b>and a message <b>from </b>“The Pill” popped up, Jelling his groggy mind <b>wide </b><b>awake</b>.
Education Association?
He vaguely recalled it being some sort of organization that a bunch of bored intellectuals with too much time on their hands had built up together, <b>iming </b>to make a difference in the world.
He didn’t quite understand why the big shot was suddenly inquiring about this, but he swiftly typed out a response, [The Education Association is kinda like a talent incubator, scooping up hotshots for universities, Il you’re asking they’re a big deal.. well they’re alright, I guess. After all, it’s all about making a difference.)
Mirabe read the message, with a light of realization dawning <b>on </b>her beautiful face before she replied with a leisurely “Thanks<b>“</b><b>. </b>
Well she thought it was something <b>grand</b>, but it turned out to be just a glorified pyramid scheme with a license to
operate<b>. </b>
[Do you have kids in school?] the man texted Mirabe. I’ve got a friend in the Association, on the board no less. If you ever need. I could help you!
Mirabe held her phone, plunged into a profound silence, not replying for a long while.
[Hello?]
With a soft sigh, Mirabe finally wrote back: [hanks, but no need.]
The man felt something off about her reply but then figured, of course, the big shot wouldn’t need it. After all, it was not Like they were a student, right?
[By the way, there’s a big auctioning up at Riverdale’s underground market. I heard Lunar Lace will be on the block. Weren’t you looking for <b>that</b>? I’ve got an invite. If you fancy it, I can send you my <b>pass</b><b>.</b>)
Mirabe pondered for a moment before tapping out: [Thank you. Got school. Can’t make it.)
The man, who had just picked up his cup for a drink, spat out his water in shock.
School? No time<b>? </b>
Was he hallucinating? Was the big shot not some ancient geezer?
Perhaps it was due to the sour exchange with Mirabe that morning. Emmitt, who had nned to stay at home for a while, left within the day, with clear disappointment in his gaze as he looked at his sister.
–
Mirabe, unaffected, continued her routine studying in silence. It was the picture of calm and obedience, much to their mother Delh’s chagrin. She really disapproved of her eldest son’s behavior.
Worried about the growing tension between the siblings, Delh simply ordered Emmitt not toe home for <b>a </b>while to keep the peace.
In the afternoon, Delhined of a headache and decided to visit her favorite alternative medicine spot for <b>a </b>massage, only to be stopped by Mirabe. “Let me massage your head.”
Delh, massaging her temples, waved her off. “No need, sweetie. I’ll just pop over to the alternative medicine ce. A üttle rubdown and a couple of acupuncture needles should do the trick.”
Mirabe frowned slightly, and her <b>tone </b><b>was </b><b>serious</b><b>. </b>“You shouldn’t just let anyone massage or use your head with acupuncture for a headache. If they miss the right spot, it could make things worse.”
Delh paused, thenughed it off. “It’s okay, dear. I’ve been going to him for years. He’s skilled, so don’t worry.”
11:34
Mirabe stayed silent for a moment, then offered, “Why not try my technique? If <b>you </b>still feel bad afterward, you can visit him, deal?”
Delh, interpreting this as her daughter’s concern, agreed and settled into a nearby armchair. She figured she’d just <b>reassure </b>her daughter that the headache had subsided and then sneak off to the masseue when Mirabe wasn’t
looking.