(Author’s POV)
Alaric changed into a fresh pair of black sweatpants and a light blue casual shirt and settled opposite her.
Nora served him a hearty portion and looked at him with a gleam in her eyes. As if she had herself prepared that al. Alaric, though reluctantly, took a small spoonful. The savoury, flavorful soup flooded his senses, bringing with it a raw wave of comfort and warmth.
He didn’t comnt anymore, but Nora could clearly see a rare expression of solace on his face. "Then, I will dig in as well," she said, with a gleeful face.
As soon as she sipped the lentil & vegetable soup, her spoon slipped from her fingers, making a cling sound. Her eyes widened.
Alaric stopped and rushed to her side, asking, his countenance stunned, "Ora, wh~ .... what happened to you?" He started rubbing her back nervously.
"Where did you get this from?" she answered with another question, her eyes locked on Alaric’s, her voice etched with seriousness.
Her brother hesitated, his eyes fluttering, but he controlled himself shortly after, "You shouldn’t have had that." He slid the bowl away from her and gave her lukewarm water, "Drink this, you will feel better."
"Brother Al, I asked, where did you buy this?" each of Nora’s syllables was dripping with urgency.
"Why? Why are you asking it?" he queried, trying to stay composed. But ntally, he was cursing at himself.
"It~ ... it tastes like~ .... it tastes exactly like how~ ..." she paused, the emotions residing in her sank in, "~Aunt Sandra’s cooking. Tell , where did you get this, hmm?" She stood up, asking him again.
After Nora’s adoptive parents, Jas and Clara Smith, had their biological child, Matthew, they stopped treating her like their own daughter and more like a heavy burden they were carrying. In her eyes, overnight, she turned from a precious princess to a re obligation.
That’s when the Miracle’s stepped in.
Nora and Myra were friends from their orphanage days, so their bond was already super solid, but Sandra and William Miracle, the two most kind hearted people, were the ones who took care of her when her own adoptive parents weren’t willing to.
William used to teach her and Myra, while Sandra~ .... she was the one who always looked after her like her own child. She never once differentiated between Myra, Wendy or Nora. To her, they were all the sa.
Sandra and Nora used to spend a lot of ti, where the latter learned a thing or two from the forr. She has had countless als with the Miracles. So, never in a million chances was she going to make this kind of mistake.
This taste, this familiarity, she wasn’t wrong, she knew it in her heart, that why she asked, "Brother Al, pleaseeeeeeee~ .... Tell , where did you get this? I told you, na~ .... that Myra is here. She is in Esteria. Now, I have no doubt about it." Her voice was laced with utmost desperation.
Alaric was now in a state of dilemma. He, of course, could not tell Nora where he got that box, nor could he lie.
Alex forced his way through and said, ’Al, you should tell her. She has every right to know about Myra.’
But before Alaric could utter a single word, the urgent knocking on the door distracted them. Both he and Nora glanced at the shut door simultaneously as Brave’s grimly voice echoed from the other side, "Al, Nor, we need to go to the Larson mansion."
In that mont, Alaric breathed a sigh of relief, thanked his twinnie internally, then said to Nora, "I will look into it for you. For now, let’s do what we are here for."
No matter how frantically she was getting on the inside, Nora didn’t press further. She didn’t want to throw a tantrum and act like a child at a ti like this. In the end, she could only nod in understanding and trust her big brother.
Alaric ruffled her hair gently and mumbled, "Let’s go." Nora followed quietly.
As they both stepped out, they found Dion alongside Brave. Alaric questioned, "What happened? Why are we suddenly going to the Larson mansion?"
"I don’t know, but I just attended a call from Secretary Shadow. He sounded grave and urgent. He said he needs to et us in person and asked all of us to co to the Larson mansion as soon as possible," Brave explained.
No other word was said, but all of them knew that sothing must have happened for Chris to call and ask to co urgently. They wasted no ti and scurried away to the Larson mansion.
__________________________
"Myra, Yelena, you are back. How is Prof. Stephens doing? Much better now?" Sandra’s chirpy, expectant voice echoed when she saw them stepping inside the house.
"Fabian~ .... he is alright now and has been discharged," Yelena answered.
"Ohh, really, that’s great. Then, he must be at his residence. I will whip up so nutritious dishes for him," Sandra said enthusiastically. That kind lady was always ready to help people in need.
Seeing her like that, Yelena felt a tad bit of guilt rising inside her, "Umm~ .... Aunt Sandra ... that won’t be necessary. Actually~ .... Currently, Fabian is with so of his distant relatives. So, he isn’t nearby."
"Ohhh~ ..." Sandra nodded, then asked, "Was the food to his liking? After all that dication, he must be feeling down, so I made it a bit flavorful."
"He didn’t like it~ .... He didn’t like it at all," Yelena said, her tone dead serious.
Hearing her words, Sandra’s shoulders slumped. She was most confident in her cooking skills, but now, she felt dejected.
Yelena added, exclaiming, "He damn loved it, devoured them. He even asked for recipes."
"Ohh~ ... don’t blow it up like that," though Sandra said that, the joy in her eyes was evident. She was happy to hear that. She then added, "Give the box. Let see whether you are telling the truth or not."
To Be Continued . . . . . . .
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