<b>Chapter </b>408
Mirabe <b>tucked </b><b>away </b><b>her </b><b>silver needles </b><b>and </b><b>strode </b><b>out </b><b>of </b><b>the </b><b>bathroom </b><b>with </b>the grace of
<b>seasoned professional</b>.
<b>Wyatt</b>, <b>who </b><b>had </b>been <b>waiting outside, </b><b>anticipated </b>her needs <b>with </b>the care of a doting <b>butler and </b><b>presented </b><b>her </b><b>with </b>a <b>steaming </b><b>bowl </b><b>of </b>chicken <b>soup</b><b>. </b>“Ms. Mirabe, thank <b>you</b><b>, </b><b>he </b><b>said with </b><b>a </b><b>dutiful </b><b>nod</b>.
<b>Raising an </b><b>eyebrow </b>at <b>the </b><b>gesture</b><b>, </b>Mirabe <b>took </b><b>the </b>soup and offered a <b>nod of </b><b>approval</b>. Scratching <b>his </b><b>head </b><b>with </b><b>a </b><b>goofy </b><b>grin</b>, Wyatt inquired, “How’s the boss‘ health now?<b>” </b>
<b>After </b>a <b>sip </b><b>that </b><b>soothed </b>her throat, Mirabe replied, “He should be stable for now. As long <b>as </b><b>nothing </b>extraordinary happens, his chronic issues shouldn’t re up again.”
Wyatt practically glowed with relief. It wasn’t the perfect fix he had hoped for, but it was light<b>–</b><b>years </b>ahead of the grim prognoses they’d gotten from other so–called miracle workers.
<b>Just </b>then<b>, </b><b>a </b>freshly dressed James emerged from his room.
Finishing thest of her soup, Mirabe turned to regard James, and her mind couldn’t <b>help </b><b>but </b>wander to some rather unseemly scenarios. Clearing her throat, she averted her gaze and handed the empty bowl back to Wyatt. “Thanks, I should be getting back now.”
<b>Wyatt </b>bobbed his head. “Of course.”
He almost offered to escort her but then nced at James, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous suggestion. “Sir, why don’t you walk Ms. Mirabe home? It’s quitete, and <b>it </b>wouldn’t be safe for her to go alone, would it?”
Despite the awkwardness of the age difference, which made it seem like an older man <b>preying </b><b>on </b><b>a </b>younger woman, Wyatt believed Mirabe could be a perfect match for
<b>James</b>.
Mirabe nearly stumbled upon hearing this. She turned back, eyeing Wyatt with an expressionless face. Their homes were a mere fifty meters apart–what could possibly be <b>unsafe</b><b>? </b>
“Hmm<b>, </b><b>you </b>make <b>a </b>good point,” James agreed, looking quite serious. He seemed pleased <b>with </b>Wyatt’s sudden enlightenment.
<b>Straightening </b>his sleeves, he approached Mirabe. “Come on. I’ll walk you. The night <b>does </b><b>have </b>its dangers.”
<b>Mirabe’s </b><b>inner </b><b>voice called </b>out, “Utter nonsense.”
<b>As </b><b>James </b>headed for the <b>exit</b>, Mirabe rubbed her temple in exasperation<b>, </b>hoping she
<b>10-29 </b>
wouldn’t <b>run into </b><b>Zach on </b><b>her </b>way <b>back</b>.
<b>She </b><b>followed with </b><b>her </b><b>box </b><b>of </b><b>silver </b>needles<b>, </b><b>reaching </b>the staircase just <b>as </b>her <b>phone </b><b>buzzed in her pocket</b>. <b>She </b><b>saw </b><b>an </b><b>unknown </b>number <b>and </b>hesitated <b>before </b><b>answering</b>.
A <b>gruff </b><b>voice </b><b>came </b><b>through </b>immediately. “You heartless girl. You <b>hit </b>me, and <b>now </b>you <b>won’t </b>even check <b>on </b>me? <b>I </b><b>haven’t </b>eaten all day. Are you trying to starve me to death<b>, </b><b>so </b><b>you </b><b>can </b><b>escape </b><b>the </b>reality <b>of </b>hitting an old man?”
Mirabe’s face turned a shade of green as she was about to retort, but her foot slipped, <b>and </b><b>she </b>tumbled towards the ground below. In that instant, her exhausted body couldn’t <b>react in </b><b>time</b>, and one thought crossed her mind. “This is all because of that old <b>scammer</b>.”
James, who was ahead, sensed themotion and swiftly turned. He caught sight of Mirabe falling and, with reflexes honed by urgency, reached out and caught her in his <b>arms</b><b>. </b>“You need to be more careful,” James chided, his brows knitting together as he steadied her on her feet.
Mirabe’s face, pale but devoid of panic, seemed to soften under his gaze. Feeling a protective impulse, James kept his hand on her shoulder and asked again, “Are you alright?”