Chapter 0217

Paul had his car. Since they were headed the same way, Miranda naturally went along with him. The old apartment building didn’t have a parking garage, so they parked at the mall across the street and walked back to the apartment.

On their way, they passed through a grove of poplar trees when suddenly a strong wind blew, stirring up a flurry of poplar fluff that swirled around like scattered white snowflakes.

“Achoo-” Miranda couldn’t help but sneeze. “Sorry, I… Achoo-”

She sneezed several times in a row, and Paul quickly realized she was having an allergic reaction. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of tissues. He tore it open, took one out, and handed it to her.

“Cover your nose with this and take small breaths.”

Miranda followed his instructions, and her nose felt much better. They then quickened their pace, eager to get home.

After saying goodbye at their doors, Miranda shut hers quickly and immediately burst into a series of seven or eight more sneezes. By the time she finally stopped, her nose was completely red.

Jandersville was a great place to live, except for those few months every year when the fluff floated through the air–it was unbearable for her. Even after living there for seven or eight years, she still hadn’t gotten used to it.

After about ten minutes of recovery and downing a large glass of hot water, Miranda started feeling better.

She then opened the fridge, took out some ingredients, and began preparing lunch to bring to the lab the next day.

By the time she finished cooking, packing everything, and cleaning the kitchen, it was nearly 11:00 pm. She glanced at the trash can, which was filled with eggshells and vegetable scraps, and sighed.

Resigned, she grabbed the garbage and headed downstairs to throw it out. On her way back, just as she was about to enter the building, her phone rang.

“Hello, Cal? What’s up?”

“Miranda, be careful! Hansel’s on his way to your place, and I couldn’t stop him! He’s had a lot to drink, and I’m worried he might do something reckless…”

Miranda warily scanned her surroundings. Just as she was about to say “okay”, a dark figure suddenly leaped out.

“Ack-"

“Mimi…”

Hansel reeked of alcohol. His cheeks were flushed, and his gaze was a drunken, dazed mess as he looked at her.

On the other end of the line, Calvin’s anxious voice called out, “Miranda? Miranda! What happened? Why did you stop talking-”

Hansel grabbed Miranda’s wrist, snatched the phone from her hand, and ended the call.

“First it was Sam, now it’s Calvin. You say you don’t love me, refuse to get back together, but then you turn around and mess around with my friends. What are you playing at, Miranda?”

“You’re drunk,” Miranda said, turning her head aside. Her expression was cold. “I don’t argue with drunkards.”

“A drunkard? You’re calling me a drunkard?” Hansel gripped her shoulders and shook her violently.

His voice was laced with despair as he said, “You didn’t used to be like this. You used to worry about me drinking too much, about my stomach, about whether I’d feel sick the next day… Why? Why did you change so easily? Why?”

Miranda shoved him away. Drunk and unsteady, Hansel’s grip was easy to break free from. She stepped back, putting distance between them. “I only care about people who matter to me.”

“I don’t matter anymore?” Hansel murmured, lost in disbelief.

“You haven’t for a long time.”

With that, Miranda turned and ran up the stairs, desperate to get away before Hansel could catch up.

This one-sided pursuit had long stopped being just a nuisance–it had crossed into harassment. What started as weariness on her part had now turned into sheer disgust.

Seeing her avoid him as if he were the plague, Hansel, who had been stunned moments before, suddenly seemed provoked.

He lunged forward, reaching out, intending to pull her into his arms. But instead, he grabbed a fistful of Miranda’s hair.

She immediately let out a pained scream.