Chapter 34

Studying was dull, but Miranda was surprisingly getting used to it. After another day of classes, she went home, planning an early night. However, she unexpectedly received a call from Christine.

Christine inquired about Miranda's revision progress, receiving a quick update. She didn't press for details and didn't seem worried. Miranda burst out laughing. Then Christine said, "Drop by my house tomorrow morning," and hurriedly hung up, as if afraid Miranda would refuse.

The next day, Miranda rose early and prepared breakfast, including some for Paul. She hadn't heard him leave, even after falling asleep; he must have pulled another all-nighter at the lab. When she opened her door, she ran into him returning.

Two weeks had passed since that rainy night. His usually neat clothing was rumpled, and exhaustion was evident in his eyes. Miranda, remembering their last conversation, guessed he'd encountered problems at the lab. Without asking, she simply raised a thermos.

"I made pumpkin soup last night and simmered it overnight. People pulling all-nighters often have poor appetites, so I thought this would warm you up."

Paul hadn't felt ill after previous all-nighters, but he hadn't eaten regularly for two days and his stomach ached slightly. He wanted something light, making her soup perfect.

"Thanks."

"You brought me home the other night. I should be thanking you." She smiled slightly.

Paul raised an eyebrow. "We're just neighbors; it was on my way anyway. Are you heading out?"

Miranda nodded. "Dr. Young asked me to drop by. She probably needs something." Glancing at her watch, she saw she was almost late. "I should go. Please eat the soup and boiled eggs while they're hot."

"Alright."

After watching Miranda leave, Paul entered his apartment. The thermos released a delicious aroma. Small pumpkin chunks dotted the creamy soup. It was perfectly sweet. The eggs were plain boiled eggs—he usually disliked them—but he carefully peeled them, appreciating their warmth. They weren't as bad as he expected.

On a weekday, the subway was packed. Miranda squeezed through a gap, fearing she'd be flattened, but her agility saved her. Having registered as a visitor previously, the guard at Christine's let her in.

She pressed the doorbell, but Solomon answered instead. Confused, he exclaimed, "It's you?" He'd come to collect reference materials and opened the door instinctively. Miranda looked familiar. He remembered her grabbing his hand outside the college gates, inquiring about Christine's health; she'd seemed close to tears.

Miranda was stunned. She recognized him too. Before she could speak, Christine called from inside, "Is that Miranda?"

Solomon stepped aside.

"Hi, Dr. Young." Miranda entered, carrying a bag of croissants she'd bought.

"Perfect timing! I'm looking for study materials. Can you help me find the right one?" Christine, glasses perched on her nose, gestured to a table. There sat a book on genetic sequencing in Danglish, a growing area in bioinformatics.