Chapter 553
“Mirabella, what in the world did Mr. James give you this time?” Zach inquired, a hint of frustration in his voice.
Mirabella paused mid–step, her eyebrows arched in amusement. “So you’re finally admitting your French is a bit rusty?”
“Look, I didn’t major in French,” Zach retorted, a little defensively.
With a sly smile, Mirabella nodded. “Ah yes, the classic excuse of the culturally challenged.”
Zach was rendered speechless by her academic jibe.
Soon after, they entered their home.
Shawn, waiting in the living room, narrowed his eyes as the siblings walked in. He turned to Zach and said, “Zach, come here, let’s have a little heart–to–heart.”
At the mere mention of a ‘heart–to–heart,‘ Zach shuddered involuntarily. Unsure of what he’d done to irk his old man this time, he instinctively latched onto his sister’s arm. “Mira, back me up, will ya?”
Mirabella stared at him silently for a moment before coldly withdrawing her arm. “Time to man up and face the music.”
Zach felt like crying. Standing up to his dear old dad was not an option if he wanted to walk away on two legs.
Mirabella cleared her throat and said, “I might have a suggestion for you.”
“What is it?” Zach asked, desperate for any lifeline.
Mirabella casually walked over to the fridge, pulled open the door, and pointed inside. “This.”
“What is that-” Zach’s voice trailed off as his eyes landed on the massive onion. He was petrified.
Patting his shoulder with a serious expression, Mirabella offered, “Zach, this is the only thing that can save you now.”
Zach turned to look at his Mira, who had always seemed so understanding and sweet. She was suggesting he cut onions!
Mirabella pretended not to notice his expression, grabbed a soda from the fridge shelf, twisted the cap off, and took a sip. With raised eyebrows, she teased, “Or shall I carry the onion over for you?”
Zach was speechless. He was seriously contemplating running away from home at this point.
In the living room, Shawn’s voice called out again, prompting Zach to drag his feet over.
Leaning against the door frame, Mirabella’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. She pulled out her phone and shot a message to James on Messenger. [I’ll be there tomorrow.]
It was an answer to the question that had been interrupted earlier by her brother’s crisis.
After finishing her drink and bidding her parents goodnight, Mirabella went upstairs, not sparing a glance at Zach’s pitiful look.
After an hour–long interrogation by Shawn later, a weary Zach was finally released. As he stood to return to his room, he noticed the book Mirabella had left on the sideboard. He hesitated, then walked over, picked up the French tome, and flipped through it. It was all French, not a word comprehensible to him.
Zach, once again, began to question his own intellect. He and Mirabella had the same parents, yet how could their differences be so stark?
Shawn, about to pour himself a glass of water, saw his son standing there, lost in thought. Approaching him, he glanced at the French book in his hand and asked, “Can you understand any of that?”
