Before Mirabe came into the picture, Owen might have kept his health issues under wraps, but after following her herbal regimen, he was feeling almost back to normal. So, when his mother Linnea grilled him about his condition, he candidly replied, “It''s been over a couple of weeks, Mom. But I''m on the mend now."


    Linnea barely registered the hopeful note in Owen''s voice. She was stuck on the words "over a couple of weeks."


    Over a couple of weeks... That haunting timespan. It was the same duration from when her husband fell ill to the day he passed away. Despite all the medical interventions, nothing had helped.


    The thought of her son suffering a simr fate drained the color from Linnea''s face, leaving her grasping for something to hold onto. She reached out and clutched Owen''s arm as if clinging to a lifeline. “Let''s go to the hospital right now,” she urged, her voice trembling. "Medicine hase so far; I refuse to believe this can''t be cured..."


    Seeing her like this, Owen realized she must have an inkling about the nature of his illness. He stood up, gently cing his hands on her shoulders. It took the better part of half an hour to calm her down.


    Linnea looked at her son, her eyes clouded with worry. "Are you really going to be okay?"


    Owen nodded, trying to reassure her. "Why don''t you call Shuwen? He''s been keeping track of my progress."


    She wiped her face, not bothering to make the call, and instead took Owen''s hand in hers. After a long, silent moment, as if struck by a sudden thought, she said, "A friend I dined with today has a son who returned from abroad. He''s a renowned doctor."


    But Owen was quick to dismiss the idea. "Even the best doctor can''t help if it''s not their field of expertise."


    Linnea, however, was desperate for peace of mind and wouldn''t take no for an answer. She whipped out her phone and dialed Delh.


    Owen sighed and massaged his temples. Unable to argue with her, he resigned himself to the situation.


    *


    Delh was surprised to receive Linnea''s call but upon hearing the severity of the situation, she feltpelled to help. After hanging up, she turned to Nick, who lounged on the sofa, and said, "Nick, the son of thedy who came over for dinner tonight is sick with some strange illness. She''s asking if you could take a look at him."


    Nick, who had overheard the phone conversation, paused with his phone in hand. "I specialize in neurology. I''m not sure I''ll be of much help."


    Delh had already ryed this to her friend but insisted on asking Nick to at least review the case, her head aching from the situation.


    After a few moments of silence, Nick offered apromise. "Have them send me his medical records and I''ll take a look."


    "That''s a n,” Delh agreed, relieved. "I''ll get her to send over the information."


    "Okay," Nick said, standing up. "I''m heading to my room."


    Meanwhile, Mirabe was in her own room, finishing up her schoolwork. After plowing through three sets of exercises, she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her sore shoulders.


    A thought struck her, and she pulled out a sheet of paper, jotting down a list of rare herbs with brisk, precise strokes. She snapped a photo of the list and browsed through her Messenger contacts. When she saw Niki''s name, she couldn''t help but feel a twinge of regret.


    The discount on herbs was too good to pass up.


    With a soft sigh, Mirabe continued scrolling until she found James'' chat. She perked up at the thought.


    Ah, another potential golden goose.


    With a yful "Nighty night- Sleep tight, my lovelies! Don''t stay up toote!" she signed off, ready to negotiate another day.