Ivy's tone was measured and detached, as if she were slicing that so-called "debt of gratitude" into neat, separate pieces.

Jamison listened, his handsome features marked by confusion. It took him a few moments before he finally spoke. "Is this how you interact with people? Always keeping score?"

"It’s called having principles. I make a clear distinction between favors and grievances."

He let out a dry laugh. "Right."

"There’s another thing," Ivy went on, her voice growing even more haughty. "You knew where I was, but you didn't tell Micah. At least you had the sense to keep quiet."

Jamison was speechless for a moment, fighting the urge to reach through his phone and throttle her. "Miss Ivy, do you always talk to people like this?"

"Not always. It depends on the person."

"It depends? So, what, I’m your enemy now?"

"Not exactly. But I can’t say I’m fond of you, either."

"I’ve saved your life – twice, actually. You were just saying how grateful you were."

"And I meant it. I keep things separate. I can thank you and still dislike you. Those are two different things."

Jamison prided himself on his calm and logic, but right now, Ivy was tying his thoughts in knots. For once, he had no comeback.

Grinding his teeth, he paused, then let a sly grin tug at his lips. "Maybe I should’ve told Micah where you were. The Windsors have been searching everywhere for you, you know. Maybe I’m not doing the right thing by keeping quiet."

"Don’t you dare!" Ivy’s composure shattered instantly, her bravado gone. "Jamison, this is my business – my privacy! Stay out of it!"

He couldn’t help but chuckle. "Micah’s about to become the Windsors' son-in-law, and I’m his uncle. Like it or not, that makes us all family."

"Oh, please," Ivy snapped. "Don’t pretend you don’t know the Windsors and I are sworn enemies."

Watching her lose her cool, Jamison finally felt like he’d won a round. He pressed his advantage, feigning a stern, elder’s tone. "Show some respect for your elders, Miss Ivy. Is that how you’ve been raised? Calling your elders by their first names?"

Ivy fumed in silence, thankful she hadn’t picked up her plate yet – otherwise, she might have smashed it in a fit of anger. She gritted her teeth. "I never should’ve called you. You’re not even worth my gratitude!" With that, she hung up, nearly slamming her phone onto the table.

Katrina emerged from the kitchen, carrying the last of the dishes. Startled by the abrupt end to the call, she asked cautiously, "What happened? Weren’t you just trying to thank Dr. Ludwig? How did you two end up fighting?"

"Don’t bring him up again!" Ivy snapped. "He’s just like Micah and the rest of the Windsors – no, he’s even worse!"

Too angry to eat, Ivy pushed back from the table and tried to stand, but the sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness through her. She pressed a hand to her forehead, swaying unsteadily.

"Careful!" Katrina rushed to her side and steadied her. "You’re not fully recovered. Take it slow. We don’t need another accident."

"I’m just so mad…" Ivy shut her eyes, forcing herself to calm down.

"Don’t be. Seriously, it’s my fault – I should’ve known you two would never get along. Let’s forget about him, okay? Sit down and eat. You need your strength."

Seeing her friend’s concern and all the effort she’d put into dinner, Ivy couldn’t bring herself to refuse. She sat back down, picking up her fork with a sigh.

Word of Ivy’s whereabouts quickly made its way to the Windsors.

It was Micah who shared the news, though he left out the part where he’d called Ivy himself. Instead, he claimed he’d just overheard it from Jamison.

"The day Ivy was in that car accident, the ambulance that responded was from my uncle’s hospital," Micah explained over the phone. "He saw her. Said she was pretty badly hurt."