Chapter 352 – Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family

Filed To Story: Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family

In the coffee shop, Mirabella was about to leave when the lady suddenly clutched her stomach, seeming uncomfortable.

“Honey, are you okay?” The middle-aged man quickly bent over and asked, “What’s wrong? Is your stomach hurting?”

“Um,” the lady didn’t know what was going on. Why would her stomach suddenly hurt? Was it because of the coffee?

Mirabella looked back. The lady was already in pain, curled up in the man’s arms.

The middle-aged man was really scared, “Honey, honey.”

He was about to call for help.

“Let me check.” Mirabella returned to the lady’s side and squatted down. With her slender fingers on the lady’s pulse, in less than three seconds, she had the answer in her mind.

“She’s been poisoned. It’s a slow-acting poison. Let her lie down flat.” Mirabella opened her backpack, picked a long silver needle from her acupuncture bag,”What did she drink three days ago at this time?”

“Three days ago, right about this time?” The middle-aged man seemed a bit puzzled and took a while to respond, “We were at a wedding in Oakridge City for the son of one of her good friends. At about 8

pm when we were about to leave, her friend said she was having a blast and wanted her to stick around for a few more glasses of fruit wine, which wasn’t that strong.”

“That’s about it.” Mirabella explained as she treated her, “This type of drug can only be mixed with alcohol. If you put it in mineral water or any other drink, it’ll taste funny, and you would sniff it out. But when it’s mixed with alcohol, it doesn’t change the taste, and that’s when it really kicks in.”

“You’re saying her friend spiked her fruit wine?” The man was even more confused, “But that’s impossible. They’ve been friends for 20 years, keeping in touch all this time.”

Mirabella didn’t bother speculating about other people’s business. She just did what she had to do.

“Will my wife be alright?” The man looked at the woman lying on the ground, writhing in pain, curled up.

If he could, he’d take on all her pain.

“I’ll detox her first.” Mirabella continued her treatment, “Her stomach’s taken a bit of a hit. We’ll need to follow up with medication. You can get the meds according to my prescription. I’ll write it down before you leave.”

The man looked surprised, “Ms. Mirabelle, you’re a doctor too?”

Who would have thought this young lady could not only paint and compose music, but she could also save lives.

What a jack of all trades!

“For the next three days, ask her to avoid spicy food. Keep her diet light.” Mirabella saw that the woman was doing better and stopped the treatment.

“Honey, are you feeling any better?” The man quickly helped the woman up and held her in his arms.

“Much better. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” The lady was amazed at Mirabella’s medical skills. She had been in excruciating pain but now felt like she’d sprung back to life, only a little weak.

Mirabella put away her tools, took out a pen and paper, and wrote down the prescription, dosage, and precautions.

Looking at Mirabella’s precise and forceful handwriting, the man was amazed. It suddenly hit him that her handwriting seemed familiar. He’d seen it somewhere.

Earlier tonight at the warehouse, when the girl had signed for him, he’d found her handwriting familiar.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. He had a collection of works by a famous calligrapher, and her writing was identical to that person’s.

Whether it was the style or size, it was a carbon copy.

Could it be that she was also a calligrapher?

This thought blew his mind.

“She should be fully recovered after taking the medication for three days.” Mirabella handed the prescription to the middle-aged man.

The man was jolted back to reality, “Thank you so much. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“Melody, thank God you were here.” The elegant lady squeezed Mirabella’s hand, her beautiful eyes filled with gratitude and admiration.

Before the man could ask about Mirabella’s identity, he heard his wife say, “Honey, shouldn’t you be thanking her?”

“Oh, right.” The man quickly took a check out of his pocket, signed it, and was about to hand it to her.

“There’s no need. Never mind.” Mirabella gently looked at the beautiful lady, holding her hand tight, and said, “Take good rest when you get home, and try to lay off coffee for a few days.”

“Why’s that?” The man was puzzled, “Is there a problem?”

Mirabella smiled slightly, “Drinking coffee at night might overstimulate the nervous system and mess with your sleep.”

This lady was growing fonder of Mirabella by the minute. How could there be such an angel in this world? Whose kid was she?

She was so adorable!

“Alright, time for me to hit the road.” Mirabella stood up, knowing it was getting late and Romeo would be fretting.

“Melody, let’s hang out some other time,” the lady called out to her. “Dinner’s on me.”

Mirabella turned around, smiled and said, “Sounds good.”

Once Mirabella left, the lady stared at her retreating figure, her eyes filled with longing. “What a gem.

Which lucky devil snatched her up? Such a pity. I’d love to take her home.”

“It’s fate. Even if we can’t be family, we can still keep in touch, like family. She mentioned something about the fruit wine being off. I need to look into that. If it was one of your friends who spiked it, I won’t let them off the hook.”

“Melody is so stunning. There’s no way she’d lie.” The lady’s mind was filled with Mirabella’s image.

How perfect it would be if this girl was her daughter-in-law.

Spotting the prescription Mirabella left behind, the lady picked it up for a closer look. “Such a neat, strong handwriting. It’s full of character, just like her.”

The lady liked Mirabella even more after seeing her handwriting.

“Do you reckon it looks familiar?”

The lady took a glance. It did seem familiar, like she’d seen it somewhere before.

“Labella?” They said in unison, looking at each other.

After a moment of surprise, the lady found some familiar characters in the prescription.

“Look, these characters also appear in her works. The style and font are identical.”

“Could she really be Labella?” The lady was not only surprised but also fell for the girl even more.

Meanwhile.

Alma handed a wad of cash to the waiter, wanting to know which floor Mirabella went to and who she met.

But the waiter didn’t accept it. He whispered, “Ms. Alma, we can’t disclose client information. Please don’t make me do this.”

“Who would know that? I won’t tell others.” Alma, seeing that he really wouldn’t accept it, pulled out another wad of cheques. She ripped one off and handed it to him. “Since you can’t say it, write it down.

Ten grand a word, right here.”

“Ms. Alma, I’m really sorry.” The waiter still didn’t agree. Mirabella was his benefactor. Without her, he might have lost his job. He would never betray her.

“Alma, he’s just holding out for more money.” Cherry, sitting on the couch, looked down on him. “So, ten grand a word is not enough? How much do you want?”

“Ms. Cherry, you might have misunderstood. I’m not asking for money.” The waiter kept his respectful posture, sincerely saying, “Protecting the privacy of our clients is part of our job.”

“I bet you, a low-life, struggle every day, and even basic food and clothing is an issue. Your living conditions might even be worse than a dog’s, and you’re here talking to me about job responsibilities?”

Cherry suddenly swept all the game chips on the table to the floor in front of her classmates. “Pick them up.”

“Ms. Cherry.”

“What, isn’t this your job?”

All her classmates laughed, enjoying the waiter’s embarrassment.

The waiter squatted down, picking up the game chips one by one, looking awkward but not daring to resist.

Cherry stood up and walked over to him, her high heels grinding his hand. “Do you think you’re worthy to play the high and mighty in front of us? Alma is being nice to you to ask you for information. Do you see yourself as some big shot?”

Alma coldly watched from the side, quite unhappy about the waiter’s behavior. Lucky for her, Cherry vented her anger for her.

The waiter was in so much pain he wanted to pull his hand back, but Cherry intentionally applied more pressure.

“Alright Cherry, why ruin your mood over a low-life? If you’re upset, we can help you vent, you don’t have to do it yourself.” A male classmate, Alvis, came over and patted Cherry on the shoulder.

Cherry scornfully glanced at the waiter, and then took her foot off and returned to her seat.

Alvis picked up the waiter and socked him hard in the gut.

“Dare to upset Cherry, are you asking for a fight?”

Alvis gave him another kick, sending the waiter flying out of the private room. The waiter, wincing in pain, struggled to get on his feet and staggered towards the hall.

“Oh, do you think you can escape?”

Alvis grinned, and the whole room filled with laughter.

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