<b>Chapter </b><b>80 </b>
James nced at Mirabe, whose <b>expression </b><b>had </b>clouded over as if she <b>had </b>be <b>someone </b>else entirely<b>. </b><b>After </b>a long moment<b>, </b>he spoke <b>up </b>gently, <b>“</b><b>Your </b>grandma’s going to be just <b>fine</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>
Mirabe <b>murmured </b><b>a soft </b>acknowledgment. Her eyelids <b>drooped </b><b>slightly</b><b>, </b>casting <b>faint </b><b>shadows </b><b>beneath </b>her longshes<b>. </b>She <b>sat </b>quietly<b>, </b><b>showing </b>no outward <b>signs </b><b>of </b>distress.
Soon, the <b>door </b><b>to </b>the hospital room swung open <b>from </b><b>the </b>inside<b>. </b>Mirabe <b>lifted </b><b>her </b><b>head </b><b>and </b><b>walked </b><b>over </b>with <b>calm </b>
steps.
The doctor removed his mask, eyeing <b>both </b>Mirabe and James <b>with </b>a mix <b>of </b>seriousness and reproach. “The patient is stable for now, but can’t <b>you </b>youngsters keep your tempers in check? <b>Don’t </b><b>you </b>know <b>she </b>has <b>a </b>weak heart <b>and </b><b>can’t </b>handle the stress<b>?</b><b>” </b>
A flicker of emotion passed through Mirabe’s eyes before she responded <b>with </b>utmost civility and a willingness to learn from her mistake, “We understand. We’ll be more careful <b>in </b>the future.”
Perhaps persuaded by her polite demeanor and receptiveness, the doctor seemed to lose the urge to lecture further. Instead, he advised, “Go in and keep herpany, but make sure not to upset her again.”
“Thank you,” Mirabe nodded slightly<b>. </b>Once the doctor and nurses had left, she stepped into the room.
Catherine had not yet awakened, an oxygen mask covering her face as shey quietly, the monitors beside her showing a steady rhythm of vital signs.
Mirabe’s gaze briefly touched the medical equipment before she casually pulled a chair over and sat by the bed.
After watching Catherine in silence for a moment, Mirabe reached out, tucking the nket around her with a gentle touch before nonchntly taking grandma’s hand that rested beside her.
James took a seat in another chair, his eyes catching only Mirabe’s profile, missing the tender gestures she made. His phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling his attention away. He withdrew it, nced briefly at the message on the screen, and then slid the phone back into his pocket.
But within a couple of minutes, the phone buzzed again<b>–</b><b>this </b>time, a call.
James frowned, gave Mirabe a quick look, <b>and </b>then stood up to walk <b>out </b>of the <b>room</b><b>. </b>His footsteps were almost silent, barely audible until the door clicked shut behind <b>him</b>. It was only then that Mirabe turned her head toward the door, a thoughtful expression crossing her face for a second before she looked away again.
Soon after, James returned to the room. Mirabe slowly ced Catherine’s hand back under the covers and looked up at James. “Thanks for tonight. It’s gettingte. You should head back and get some rest. I’ll stay here with her.”
James raised <b>an </b>eyebrow. “You’re being awfully polite.<b>” </b>
Mirabe leaned back in her chair, her face no longer as tense as when they had first arrived at the hospital but seeming more rxed. <b>“</b>Not really, you’ve got things to do<b>, </b>right?<b>” </b>
Her eyes flicked briefly to the phone he hadn’t yet put away.
James was somewhat surprised by Mirabe’s perceptiveness but he did have matters to attend to. After a brief pause, he exined, “I might be out of Ashford for a few days. If somethinges up<b>, </b>give me a call.”
“Sure,” Mirabe waved him off easily, clearly not too concerned.
Seeing her reaction, James just smiled <b>and </b>said<b>, </b><b>“</b>I’m off then.<b>” </b>
Soon, the room was left with only Mirabe and her grandma. After the night nurse made onest check, Mirabe settled down to rest beside the bed.