Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 710

Nora turned to look at him.

Soren met her gaze, his voice flat, completely devoid of emotion. "When people lie, they subconsciously use physical movements to deflect attention. He was lying."

Nora paused, then offered a small smile. "You know how to read people?"

Soren's expression didn't change. "Microexpression analysis was taught at the training camp."

Olive, listening from the side, was dumbfounded. She couldn't help but lean in. "Hey, kid, what else did they teach you at this Fairchild training camp?"

"A lot." Soren paused. "I scored perfectly in every subject."

"..." Olive's mouth twitched.

Archer let out a light laugh and patted the boy's shoulder. "From now on, you're the youngest cub in this pack. Call me Archer."

Soren swatted his hand away with a blank face.

Nora walked over to him. "What's your name?"

Soren shook his head. "I don't have a name. We only had designations at the camp. I'm Unit 099."

"How old were you when you entered the camp? Do you have any family left?"

"Five..." Soren hesitated for a moment. "Miss, everyone at the camp is an orphan."

Nora felt a sudden pang of sympathy, realizing this must have been one of the selection criteria for the Fairchild Shadows—being an orphan.

"Do you know your real age or your birthday?"

"I'm twenty. My first instructor assigned my birthday. September 9th."

"..." So many nines.

"How about from now on... you go by 'Soren'?"

Soren...

The boy silently repeated the name in his head.

"Thank you, Miss."

At that moment, Olive slung an arm heavily around the boy's shoulders. "Soren, right? Let's go a few rounds later. Let's see just how badass these Fairchild Shadows really are..."

Soren shoved Olive's arm off with an emotionless stare. "I'll hurt you."

"..."

Olive was completely speechless. "Damn, your mouth runs faster than Archer's! I'm going to teach you a lesson today!"

Seeing her ready to roll up her sleeves, Archer quickly grabbed her arm. "Olive, don't get worked up! He's just a kid. Even if you win, it won't be a fair fight..."

Soren glanced at him. "She can't beat me."

Archer: "..."

Fuck!

Did the Fairchilds also teach arrogance at this camp?!

A kid this small actually thought he could take on Olive?

...

Meanwhile, at the Lancaster Research Institute.

Professor Douglas Campbell's booming curses could be heard through two closed doors.

"Hudson, you little punk! You said you wanted me to keep an eye on things for two days, and what happens? You disappear for days, leaving me here to fight with this data all by myself! Do you know how many all-nighters I've pulled?! You're going to grind these old bones into dust!"

Hudson leaned casually against the edge of a desk, hands shoved into his pockets. He waited until the Professor had finished his rant before speaking in a relaxed drawl. "Professor, I've been busy these past few days..."

"Busy my ass!" The Professor slammed a folder onto the desk and pointed to Jude Winslow standing nearby. "Thank God Jude was here to help me. He hasn't slept a wink in two days..."

Hudson instinctively glanced at Jude. Sure enough, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his usually immaculate clothes were slightly wrinkled, a clear sign he had been practically living at the institute.

Working himself this hard?

Hudson narrowed his eyes slightly—was there something bothering him?

Using intense labor to numb whatever was on his mind...

Seeing Hudson stay silent, the Professor took a deep breath, picking up his tea and taking a sip. "Alright, out with it. What have you been so busy with? And don't give me that crap about spending time with your wife!"

Hudson chuckled. "Jude didn't tell you?"

Jude's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice low and slightly raspy. "It's been too chaotic. I haven't had the chance to tell the Professor yet..."

Noticing Jude's off demeanor, the Professor shot Hudson an irritated glare. "Tell me what?"

"My wife is the Fairchild heiress, Evangeline Fairchild."