Chapter 78

Miranda took the brown paper bag, and they headed to Bedford College. As they chatted, she noticed Sam's considerable knowledge. No matter the topic, he effortlessly carried the conversation. His steady voice and gentle manner made him easy to talk to.

They walked around the campus, eventually passing a stone wall. Miranda spotted a familiar face. Paul, having just finished class, was heading to the lab. Their eyes met.

He stopped. Then, noticing Sam, he said, "I didn't expect to see you here. Did your class just finish?"

Miranda replied, "It did. I'm showing a friend around campus. This is Sam Cooper." She gestured to Sam. "Sam, this is Paul Jefferson."

Sam smiled subtly, extending his hand. "Dr. Jefferson, I've heard many good things about you."

Paul shook his hand. "Likewise. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The Jefferson and Cooper families were among Jandersville's most prestigious. Though they moved in the same social circles, this was their first meeting. Miranda, oblivious to the tension, only noticed them shaking hands for an unusually long time.

Paul finally released Sam's hand. "I'm going to the lab now."

As Paul left, Sam looked pensively at Miranda. "Are you close to him?"

She replied, "We're just friends." He asked no further questions.

That night, Sam messaged Miranda: "Thank you for showing me around campus today."

She replied, "You're welcome. It was nothing." She turned off her phone, tossed it on the bedside table, and went to bed. The pillow, sun-dried the previous day, still smelled faintly of detergent. Warm and comfortable, it lulled her to sleep.

Having abandoned her strict revision schedule, she slept in, waking at 8:00 a.m. After getting dressed, she left her rundown apartment building. Despite its condition, the neighborhood was warm and friendly. Neighbors, out for groceries or walking pets, greeted her with smiles. She returned their greetings, and turning from the alley onto the next street, she reached a corner restaurant serving breakfast. Their milk was perfectly sweet, and their toast perfectly crisp.

Inside, she spotted Paul with his back to the door. She playfully patted his shoulder and sat opposite him. His unchanging expression dumbfounded her.

"Why aren't you surprised?" she asked.

"Ms. Sutton, this is the second time you've done this," Paul replied, dunking his toast in his milk. "You did it last week, and you weren't even that much faster than Bobby."

Miranda glanced at Bobby, the dog leashed near the entrance, rendered speechless.

Before she could respond, Denise Hoffman, the owner, greeted her. "Miranda, the usual today?"

Miranda nodded. "Toast and meatballs, please."

Despite her age, Denise moved quickly, soon serving Miranda her order and some favorite side dishes.

Miranda beamed. "Thank you, Mrs. Hoffman."

"Eat them before they get cold," Denise smiled.

The plump, juicy meatballs, served with milky bone broth and garnish, smelled delicious. Miranda looked at Paul, who always ordered the same two items—a combination she found bland.

"Maybe try something different next time?" she suggested.