Mirabe nodded, giving his suitcase a quick nce, "All packed up?"


    Wyatt nodded back, "Yeah, almost done. My flight''s at six tonight." He paused, pointing towards the living room, "James is still upstairs. Make yourselffortable, I''ll get you some water."


    Mirabe wandered over to the couch, noticing aptop on the coffee table, its screen flickering with several video windows open.


    Must be surveince footage from somewhere.


    She nced at it briefly before looking away, deciding not to pry.


    In less than a minute, Wyatt came over with a ss of water. He noticed theptop on the table and, after setting down the ss, turned theputer so its screen was no longer facing Mirabe.


    Curtis, having gathered his own luggage, came into the living room and saw Mirabe sitting on the couch.


    He nodded politely at her, then, touching the earpiece he wore, murmured something under his breath before sitting down at the other end of the couch, lifting theptop onto hisp.


    "Curtis doesn''t talk much, Ms. Mirabe. Don''t mind him," Wyatt said, trying to exin.


    "Okay," Mirabe said, not bothered, taking a small sip from her ss.


    But did Curtis just mention something about a painting?


    Her dad had gone to that art and ancient manuscript exhibition today that James had talked about a while back. It was supposed to be over, but they were doing a special recording for a radio documentary, and her dad had been picked as a lucky viewer. So, he had headed out early for the exhibition.


    Then, James came downstairs, his sharp features highlighted by a ck trench coat that made him look effortlessly cool, holding a thick envelope in his hand. He sat down next to Mirabe and handed her the envelope, "From Donald." Mirabe didn''t take it right away, tilting her head slightly to look at James, an eyebrow raised in question, "Is this a gift card?"


    "Just open it and see," James''s voice was smooth as silk.


    Mirabe tapped her knee, finally giving in to temptation and taking the envelope. It was heavy, and upon opening it, her eyes sparkled, “Donald''s too kind."


    James didn''t miss the look on her face, clearing his throat, "A New Year''s gift."


    Mirabe pulled out a small box from her sleeve, "Take this back for Donald, as a New Year''s gift."


    James raised an eyebrow, epting it, "What about mine?"


    Mirabe just gave him a look.


    New Year''s gifts don''t buy themselves, do they?


    She tucked the envelope into her jacket pocket.


    "When will you be back after the holidays?" Mirabe asked.


    "After the sixth, maybe," James replied after a moment''s thought.


    Mirabe nodded, then checked the time, "It''s gettingte." She stood up, patting


    his shoulder, "Safe travels, and Happy New Year in advance."


    "Same to you," James stood as well.


    "I''ll let you guys be, then. I''m off," Mirabe said cheerily, hands in her pockets.


    James had messaged her toe down, saying he had something for her. She wasn''t busy, so she decided to drop by.


    "I''ll walk you out," James offered.


    Mirabe was about to decline but ended up epting after a brief nce at him, heading towards the door.


    Just as they were leaving, Curtis, who had been engrossed in theptop and not paying much attention to Mirabe and James''s conversation, suddenly looked up, his tone urgent, "Someone''s tampering with the exhibition hall''s surveince."