<b>Chapter </b>415
Mirabe, tangled in a web of confusing rtions<b>, </b>suddenly blurted <b>out</b>, “Mom, who is this old<b>… </b>Who exactly is he?”
Delh nced up at her daughter. “Sweety, you don’t recognize your Grandpa from back
home?”
Grandpa from back home? Yeah, right<b>, </b>since when<b>? </b>She was raised by her grandma, and there was no grandpa in the picture.
Rubbing her temples, Mirabe started, “No, it’s not that-”
But before she could finish, Donald chimed in, “Maybe I should be going. I’m just an old country bumpkin, dirty and all. I understand if Mira doesn’t want me around.” With that, he shakily reached for his cane next to him, struggling to stand up as if ready to leave.
Mirabe was bbergasted. What an actor!
“Oh, please, it’s not like that at all,” Both Delh and Shawn rose to their feet, helping
Donald back onto the couch.
Turning to Mirabe, Delh said, “It was not easy for him toe all the way to the city. You could be a bit more hospitable.”
As her words fell, even Shawn, who usually spoiled his daughter, couldn’t help but give Mirabe a look of mild reproach as if to say, how could you treat an elder like this?
Mirabe, who hadn’t managed two words yet, was left feeling undervalued by her own
parents.
The couple thenforted Donald and assured him he was wee to stay, quickly telling Mirabe to keep himpany before they headed to the kitchen.
Once they were out of earshot, Mirabe took a seat next to Donald, stared him dead in the eye without a trace of emotion, and demanded, “Where did you <b>even </be from?”
Without Delh and Shawn around, Donald dropped his pitiful act. Resting his hands on his cane, he arrogantly replied, “You hit me and thought you could run off? Do you <b>think </b>the world works like that?” In other words, there was no way she was getting rid of him that easily.
Watching Donald’s <b>demeanor </b>switch in an instant, Mirabe felt a pulse throbbing at her temple. “Who hit who? You know exactly what happened”
“Clearly, you hit me. How could a frail old man like myself knock into you?” Donald retorted.
Mirabe, with a steely look, cut straight to the chase. “Fine, how did you
find my
house?”
She paused, then rephrased her question, gazing <b>directly </b>at Donald. <b>“</b><b>Or </b><b>rather</b>, <b>what’s </b>your purpose for tracking me down? Don’t <b>give </b><b>me </b>that grandpa story. We don’t know each other
Donald’s gaze wavered slightly, but he stood his ground, “You hit me, so you’re responsible for taking care of me.”
Mirabe’s patience had run dry. “I don’t care what you’re after<b>, </b>but you better find an excuse to leave my ce. Otherwise, brace yourself to be thrown out.”
Donald anorted and tilted his chin up even more defiantly, “Go ahead, try throwing out a poor old man like mel”
Mirabe was at her wit’s end.
Just then, Zach walked back into the living room. He raised an eyebrow upon seeing the old man and looked questioningly at his sister. “Mirabe, who’s this?”
“Oh, I’m Donald, Mira’s Grandfather back home,” Donald switched back to his kindly facade, answering for her.
Mirabe’s face darkened even more as she thought to herself, “It’s getting really hard not to punch an old man.”