Independence

Studying was dull and boring, but Miranda surprisingly found herself used to it.

After another day of class, she went home. Rubbing her shoulders, she was planning on having an early night when she unexpectedly received a call from Christine.

Christine first asked how her revision was going, so Miranda gave her a quick update on her progress.

The former didn’t press for details. She didn’t seem worried about Miranda at all.

Miranda burst out laughing. Then, she heard Christine say, “Drop by my house tomorrow morning.”

Afterward, she hung up the phone hurriedly, as though she was afraid that Miranda would refuse if she stayed on the line any longer.

The next day, Miranda got up early and spent half an hour making breakfast. Of course, she didn’t forget to make some for Paul too.

She hadn’t heard the door next door open a single time, even when she’d fallen asleep. He must have pulled an all–nighter at the lab again.

When she opened the door, she ran into Paul, who’d just returned.

Two weeks had passed since that rainy night. He must have just returned from the lab because his usually neat and tidy clothing was rumpled. The exhaustion in his eyes was obvious.

Miranda thought about the conversation she’d heard the last time and guessed that he must have run into a little issue at the lab.

Without asking much, she simply raised the thermos in her hand.

“I made some pumpkin soup last night and let it simmer on low heat until the morning. People who pull all–nighters usually don’t have good appetites, so I think having some pumpkin soup will warm up your tummy just right.” Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

The past few times Paul had pulled all–nighters, he’d never felt ill or anything. However, it was probably because he hadn’t been eating regularly for the past two days, but his stomach was hurting slightly.

He wanted to eat something light, so her pumpkin soup was just perfect.

“Thanks.”

“You brought me home the other night. I should be thanking you.” She smiled slightly.

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Paul raised an eyebrow. “We’re just neighbors, so it would’ve been along my way anyway.” He then asked, “Are you heading out?”

Miranda nodded. “Dr. Young asked me to drop by her house. She probably wants something.”

She glanced down at her watch and saw that it was almost time for the appointment. “I should get going. Please have the pumpkin soup and boiled eggs while they’re hot.”

“Alright.”

After watching Miranda disappear around the corner, Paul finally entered his apartment. He opened the thermos, and a delicious aroma drifted into his nostrils.

There were some small chunks of pumpkin in the creamy soup. He took a bite and found it to be the right level of sweetness.

The eggs were just normal boiled eggs. He didn’t usually enjoy them, but now he carefully peeled their shells, feeling their warmth in his palms.

It didn’t taste as bad as he’d thought it would.

On a weekday, the subway was so packed that Miranda barely had any room to stand.

She found a small gap in the crowd to squeeze through. She thought that she’d end up flattened into a pancake, but fortunately, her nimble movements helped her escape that fate.

The last time she’d visited Christine’s house, she’d registered herself as a visitor. Hence, the guard let her through this time.

She pressed the doorbell. However, the person who opened the door wasn’t Christine.

Solomon let out a noise of confusion when he saw Miranda. As though he just remembered something, he said, “It’s you?”

He’d come to get some reference materials when he’d heard the doorbell, so he’d naturally gone to open the door. When he spotted Miranda, he found her familiar for

some reason.

He quickly recalled where he’d seen her. The other day, a young lady had grabbed his hand in front of the college gates and asked about Christine’s health.

Until this day, he’d still remembered that she’d looked like she’d been about to burst into tears.

Miranda was stunned. She also recognized him. Before she could cou

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Christine’s voice sounded from inside the house. “Is that Miranda?”

Solomon stepped aside to let her in.

“Hi, Dr. Young.” Miranda stepped into the entryway, carrying a bag of croissants that y, carrying a bag of croissants that she’d bought on the way here.

“You came at the right time. I was looking for some study materials. Can you help me. see if I found the right one?” Christine waved Miranda over. She had a pair of glasses. perched on her nose.

Miranda put down the croissants and approached her. On the table, she saw a book. written in Danglish about genetic sequencing, which was an expanding area of interest in the field of bioinformatics.

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