Mirabella's almond-shaped eyes narrowed, a fierce glint flashing through them, but it quickly faded away. She leaned back in her seat, turned off her phone, and asked the man next to her, "How fast can we get back to Westbridge?"
James, already having messaged Wyatt to prep the plane as soon as Mirabella checked the location, replied, "About an hour and a half."
Mirabella lightly tapped her fingers on her knee, murmured a soft acknowledgment, and closed her eyes. She hadn't dressed warmly when she left, and now her face looked both pale and cold.
James glanced in the rearview mirror but stayed silent, instead turning up the car's heat.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up at the airport.
Wyatt was waiting at the entrance. As they got out of the car, he approached with a nod, "James, Ms. Mirabella."
Mirabella gave a nod in return.
Noticing her cold hands, James squeezed them gently and draped his jacket over her shoulders. He then turned to Wyatt, speaking calmly, "Stay here and sort things out."
"Got it," Wyatt nodded, his eyes briefly flickering over Mirabella's face. He didn't know why James suddenly needed to rush back to Westbridge, but he guessed it was related to Ms. Mirabella.
Wyatt wisely held back from asking further questions, took the keys James tossed to him, and watched them head into the airport.
As they boarded the plane, Mirabella got a call from Robert.
"Hey, Mirabella, I can't reach your friends. Have they been in touch with you? They're supposed to head to the airport later, but they're nowhere to be found," Robert's worried voice came through.
Mirabella settled into her seat in the cabin and replied with her usual calm, "Professor, no need to worry. They're probably just out shopping and will be back soon."
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Double or more Life of the Fake Heiress (Mirabella)