Chapter 7

Miranda, aware of Christine's concern about her studies, reassured her, "Don't worry. I won't let you down."

Returning home, Miranda reviewed the materials she had brought. Unlike the textbooks she'd used for the admissions exam, these contained actual experimental methods and research findings, requiring significant experimental experience for comprehension. An inexperienced person would find them relatively difficult.

So engrossed in her reading, Miranda lost track of time. It was almost midnight when she finally stopped, rubbed her tired eyes, and prepared for bed. She had just settled down when a loud pounding on the door jolted her awake.

"Miranda… Open the door! I know you're in there!"

Despite two intervening doors—one to the living room, one to her bedroom—Hansel's voice was perfectly clear. The pounding intensified.

Remembering Hansel's previous attempt to force himself on her, Miranda's lips paled. She clutched her blanket tightly.

"Miranda… Open the door! Mimi…"

Miranda covered her ears, hoping silence would deter him. However, after five minutes of relentless pounding, it was clear he wouldn't stop until someone answered. The building's poor soundproofing meant Hansel's late-night disturbance would likely attract complaints.

Sure enough, she heard angry voices:

"Who the heck is making so much noise at this ungodly hour? How are we supposed to sleep?"

"A mad dog barking nonstop!"

"If you don't fucking leave now, I'll call the police!"

Miranda, having no choice, slipped into her slippers and went to the door. "Hansel Johnson, are you out of your mind?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"I knew you were in there."

"So?"

"Open the door and let me in."

"Why should I? Who do you think you are? Do I have to let you in just because you say so?"

Hansel sneered. "Fine. I'll keep knocking."

"Why you—"

"I'm knocking now—"

Miranda, defeated, opened the door. Fearing she might change her mind, Hansel swiftly pushed his way inside. The strong smell of alcohol clung to him; his red cheeks and unsteady gait suggested he was severely intoxicated.

Miranda frowned and cautiously backed away. "What do you want?"

Hansel stared silently, his dark eyes unfocused. Then, softly, "Mimi, come back…"

Miranda shook her head, pulling her jacket tighter. "You know that's impossible."

"It's been six months. Isn't that enough?"

"Hansel, I'm not playing games. Do you understand?"

"I don't… What do you want? Tell me! Do you want an apology? Do you want me to repent? Should I get on my knees?"

This was his lowest point, his ultimate display of submission. They had fought countless times, but Hansel had never behaved like this before. Still, Miranda shook her head.

"Enough! You're being too much!" Hansel bellowed, panting. "You've let me in. Doesn't that mean there's still a chance? Just tell me your conditions! Say it!"

His jaw clenched. He couldn't comprehend what more Miranda wanted after humbling himself so completely.

Miranda replied, "I let you in because I didn't want to disturb the others. It's as simple as that. As you said, we should end this amicably. So, what are you doing now?"

Hansel took a step toward her, reaching for her shoulders. Miranda recoiled, her eyes widening in fear. "Don't touch me!"