Chapter 13


    As Emmitt and Summer stepped into the elevator, Delh’s fa?ade of polite unfamiliarity instantly gave


    way to a tender watchfulness. She turned to Mirabe with a voice softer than a southern breeze,


    cooing. “Sweetheart, let’s get you inside…


    Before the elevator doors slid shut, Summer caught a glimpse of her foster mother’s abrupt switch in


    demeanor. Summer’s face turned a shade of unpleasant darkness in the blink of an eye.


    The Davis residence wasn’t exactly a mansion, but their two–story duplex boasted afortable size.


    The décor was a refined blend of ssical elegance with furniture that gave the impression of heirloom


    quality. You could tell the homeowners had a discerning eye.


    Mirabe took her time surveying the ce until her gazended on a framed piece of painting on the


    wall A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes, but it was quickly dismissed as she mentally rejected the


    possibility of it being an original masterpiece. Even though the Davis family didn’t seem to be living


    hand–to–mouth, they were hardly in the league of owning priceless art. The painting was likely a


    replica.


    Shawn, who had been ruminating on how to break the ice with his daughter, caught the brief moment of


    her attention on the artwork. He saw an opportunity and spun it. “Mira, do you have an appreciation for


    painting?” he asked, his face blooming with an easy smile.


    Mirabe’s eyebrows arched slightly as shezily replied, “Nope, not interested.”


    Shawn was momentarily taken aback, and his throat clogged with a barrage of artsy topics that never


    saw the light of day. After a moment, he managed to utter. “Oh, you’re not, huh…”


    Seeing him look a bit deted, Mirabe added after a thoughtful pause. “Different strokes for different


    folks.”


    That seemed to restore Shawn’s paternal pride, and he eagerly followed up. “So, what are your


    interests then?”


    Mirabe, recalling her life before this body hop, fell into silence. Then, lifting her head to face Shawn


    with earnest eyes, she confessed. “Studying.”


    The response almost broke Shawn’sposure, his eyebrow twitching violently. How was a girl


    notorious for skipping sses now iming her passion was studying?


    Shawn observed his seemingly serious daughter and began to wonder if he had been misled during his


    previous inquiries at the small–town school.


    “Shawn, are you showing off that old scribble again?” Delh’s voice cut through the air as she carried


    dishes from the kitchen, her eyes casting a yful yet scathing nce at him. With amanding


    shout, she added, “Come and set the table already!”


    “It’s not showing off.” Shawn protested, touching his nose before reluctantly heading toward the


    kitchen, muttering under his breath, “Why does everything look like junk to you? That plece is


    actually…”


    His words trailed off into an unintelligible mumble, so Mirabe didn’t quite catch the rest. However, the


    term ‘old scribble‘ used by Delh was loud and clear.


    N?vel(D)rama.Org''s content.


    After dinner, Delh led Mirabe upstairs. The second floor housed four rooms. The one prepared for


    Mirabe was at the far end of the hallway on the right. As Delh pushed open the door, she


    exined, “This room used to belong to Leo. He’s got ants in his pants and hardly ever shows up at


    home, so I decided to give the ce a makeover. Take a look, do you like it?”