?Chapter 860:


    “You were reaching out like you were trying to hold onto something,” Chris said, his voice calm and soothing. “Was it a nightmare?”


    Only then did Maia notice how tightly her hand was gripping Chris’ forearm.


    Heat rose to her cheeks as she quickly let go. “Yeah… I was falling in my dream.”


    The moment Maia spoke, a few nearby passengers nced her way. Talk of falling mid-flight wasn’t something most people wanted to hear.


    Before Maia could smooth things over with a lightment, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl.


    That did it — her face turned an even deeper shade of red, and she immediately cast her eyes downward.


    Chris smiled slightly and pressed the service button, ordering some food for Maia.


    After she finished her meal, a bit of color returned to her face. She suddenly nced up at Chris with a spark in her eyes. “Chris, once we’re back, let’s grab something spicy. There’s this ce in Wront I used to go to with Pattie. Real authentic stuff.”


    The restaurant had been one of Maia’s favorite spots with Pattie, especially when she couldn’t stomach the unfamiliar vors abroad.


    Chris gave Maia a gentle nod, a faint smile ying on his lips. “Sounds good. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything with real heat.”


    Right on cue, a quiet grumble came from his stomach.


    Maia looked up, her eyes twinkling with yful mischief. “Then it’s settled.”


    Outside the window, the clouds parted as the aircraft began its descent toward Wront International Airport.


    Without a word, Chris reached over and wrapped his hand around Maia’s, which still felt a little cold to the touch.


    To his quiet relief, Maia didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers gently closed around his.


    ???????? ???????? ???? ??????????ν????????????<fn2247> The source of th?s content is FindN()vel</fn2247>


    Their eyes met in the hush between them, a simple nce saying more than words could.


    Not long after, the ne touched down with a gentle glide across the runway. Once the doors opened, Chris and Maia made their way down the mobile stairs and boarded the shuttle waiting to take them from the tarmac.


    They headed straight for the baggage im, retrieved their luggage, and stepped outside — only to be met with a sudden burst of chaos. A crowd had already formed, packed with eager fans and reporters, cameras shing from every direction.


    Apparently, someone had spotted Maia by the carousel, snapped a quick photo, and posted it online.


    The image had gone viral in minutes. News of her return — “Maia arrives at Wront International Airport” — was already trending across multiple tforms.


    Excited voices filled the air, building into a wave of cheerful noise.


    “Maia! It’s so good to see you back!”


    “Ms. Watson, your art means the world to us! We’ve been cheering for you all along!”


    “I’ve been your fan for as long as I can remember! Composer K’s music shaped my childhood, MCN’s designs inspired my style, and now I’m studying art because of you. You’ve been my role model all my life.”


    .


    .


    .