Chapter 553


    “Mirabe, what in the world did Mr. James give you this time?” Zach inquired, a hint of frustration in his


    voice.


    Mirabe paused mid–step, her eyebrows arched in amusement. “So you’re finally admitting your


    French is a bit rusty?”


    “Look, I didn’t major in French,” Zach retorted, a little defensively.


    With a sly smile, Mirabe nodded. “Ah yes, the ssic excuse of the culturally challenged.”


    Zach was rendered speechless by her academic jibe.


    Soon after, they entered their home.


    Shawn, waiting in the living room, narrowed his eyes as the siblings walked in. He turned to Zach and


    said, “Zach,e here, let’s have a little heart–to–heart.”


    N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive ? material.


    At the mere mention of a ‘heart–to–heart,‘ Zach shuddered involuntarily. Unsure of what he’d done to


    irk his old man this time, he instinctivelytched onto his sister’s arm. “Mira, back me up, will ya?”


    Mirabe stared at him silently for a moment before coldly withdrawing her arm. “Time to man up and


    face the music.”


    Zach felt like crying. Standing up to his dear old dad was not an option if he wanted to walk away on


    two legs.


    Mirabe cleared her throat and said, “I might have a suggestion for you.”


    “What is it?” Zach asked, desperate for any lifeline.


    Mirabe casually walked over to the fridge, pulled open the door, and pointed inside. “This.”


    “What is that-” Zach’s voice trailed off as his eyesnded on the massive onion. He was petrified.


    Patting his shoulder with a serious expression, Mirabe offered, “Zach, this is the only thing that can


    save you now.”


    Zach turned to look at his Mira, who had always seemed so understanding and sweet. She was


    suggesting he cut onions!


    Mirabe pretended not to notice his expression, grabbed a soda from the fridge shelf, twisted the cap


    off, and took a sip. With raised eyebrows, she teased, “Or shall I carry the onion over for you?”


    Zach was speechless. He was seriously contemting running away from home at this point.


    In the living room, Shawn’s voice called out again, prompting Zach to drag his feet over.


    Leaning against the door frame, Mirabe’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. She pulled out her


    phone and shot a message to James on Messenger. [I’ll be there tomorrow.]


    It was an answer to the question that had been interrupted earlier by her brother’s crisis.


    After finishing her drink and bidding her parents goodnight, Mirabe went upstairs, not sparing a


    nce at Zach’s pitiful look.


    After an hour–long interrogation by Shawnter, a weary Zach was finally released. As he stood to


    return to his room, he noticed the book Mirabe had left on the sideboard. He hesitated, then walked


    over, picked up the French tome, and flipped through it. It was all French, not a wordprehensible to


    him.


    Zach, once again, began to question his own intellect. He and Mirabe had the same parents, yet how


    could their differences be so stark?


    Shawn, about to pour himself a ss of water, saw his son standing there, lost in thought. Approaching


    him, he nced at the French book in his hand and asked, “Can you understand any of that?”