As the sun began its descent into the horizon, the bustle of the hospital began to taper off, leaving the halls quieter than they had been all day.


    The nurse descended in the elevator. Her footsteps echoed through the now–sparse lobby. She scanned the area, finding no sign of Mirabe. With a sense of urgency, she darted toward the main entrance, but her search there proved just as fruitless. Finally, with her shoulders slumped in defeat, she turned to head back inside.


    Meanwhile, Mirabe was already nestled in the backseat of a cab, speeding away towards the apartmentplex where Catherine resided. As the cityscape zipped by in a blur outside the window, her eyes flickered with an intensity. Her usually impassive face now carried a chill that was not typical for one so young.


    She fished out her phone and dialed Catherine’s number once more, only to be greeted by the cold shutdown prompt.


    She should have recognized that something was off with Catherine yesterday. Mirabe pressed her fingers to her temple, and her expression grew even darker.


    Twenty minutester, the cab rolled to a stop at the entrance to theplex. After paying the fare, Mirabe hurried inside. Her pace quickened as she ascended to Catherine’s floor. She pressed the doorbell with a sense of urgency.


    The door swung open to reveal the face of an unfamiliar woman. “Who are you looking for?” the middle–aged woman asked, eyeing Mirabe with curiosity.


    She was the caregiver Mandy had hired to look after Catherine and hadn’t met Mirabe before. Mirabe’s brows knitted together. “Isn’t Catherine home?”


    At <i>once</i>, the caregiver asked, “Oh, you’re here for Catherine?”


    “Yes, is she <i>here</i>?” Mirabe asked, while her patience was wearing thin.


    The caregiver sized up Mirabe again before replying politely, “Catherine fell ill and has been in the hospital for a while now, but… who are you, and what do you need with her?”


    Mirabe didn’t answer her question, instead repeating her own. “Is she truly not here?” “Well, I wouldn’t lie to you. Catherine’s been sick and in the hospital. Why don’t you try calling her?” the caregiver said, perplexed by the young woman’s intensity.


    Noting that the caregiver seemed to have nothing to hide, Mirabe was left feeling uneasy. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left.


    The caregiver stood there, confused, watching Mirabe’s silhouette vanish into the elevator before murmuring to herself while closing the door, “What an odd encounter<b>…</b><b>” </b>


    Chania 118


    Still puzzled, the caregiver walked to the phone and dialed a number, feeling that something wasn’t quite right.


    Over at the Gilbert family’s vi, Mandy had just picked up the call. “You’re saying a young girl came looking for my mother?” she inquired.


    “Yes, ma’am. She wouldn’t give her name, but she seemed rather anxious. I’m not sure if something’s wrong,” the caregiver ryed the situation in detail.


    Mandy’s brow furrowed as she asked, “Was the girl tall, attractive, and looked like a student?”


    “That’s her, ma’am.”


    Mandy’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Alright, I understand.”


    After hanging up, Mandy crossed her arms and pondered deeply. The description from the caregiver could only match Mirabe, but why would she suddenly show up at the apartment asking for her mother? Didn’t she know that Catherine was still hospitalized?


    Descending the stairs in herfortable home attire, Summer noticed her mother’s unusual demeanor and took a seat beside her, asking softly, “Mom, what’s going on?”


    Mandy snapped back to reality and chose not to hide the truth. “The caregiver looking after your grandmother called. She said Mirabe stopped by your grandmother’s apartment.”