Chapter 143 The Charm She Lost at the Mine
The night was thick as undissolved ink.
The drive from the base back to Prescott Manor was long. Miranda drove with the window half-down, cold wind rushing in, trying to dispel that lingering sourness in her heart.
Clifton's final look had been cold, distant, as if looking at a complete stranger.
His words of rejection stuck in her mind like nails.
Back at Prescott Manor, the entire villa was empty, only a few wall sconces casting dim light.
Miranda tiredly kicked off her heels and walked barefoot on the floor, the chill creeping up from her soles straight into her heart.
She had no energy to shower. She just wanted to quickly change into comfortable loungewear and sleep, to forget today's awkward and humiliating scene at the base.
Pushing open the walk-in closet door, the motion sensor light clicked on.
She stopped at the steamer, casually hanging up the dress she'd changed out of. Just as she reached for her pajamas, her gaze froze on a storage compartment in the corner of the closet.
Several of Clifton's rarely-worn ties lay there, and beside them rested something small and fluffy.
Miranda's heartbeat skipped.
Her hand trembled as she reached out and grabbed the charm.
The moment her fingertips touched that familiar plush texture, an electric current shot through her entire body.
"How could this be..."
She couldn't believe her eyes. Frantically, she flipped the charm over to check the metal nameplate on the bottom.
Clearly engraved were the words: Miranda.
Her name.
This was a custom charm from her favorite bag.
Miranda's pupils contracted sharply, her fingers gripping the charm turning white from pressure.
This charm had been lost in that foreign mine pit the day of her accident!
But now, this item that should have been buried deep in ruins abroad was appearing in Clifton's closet?
In the compartment where he kept his personal belongings?
An absurd yet incredibly close-to-truth thought began growing like wildfire in her mind.
Could it be...
Was Clifton the one who rescued her from the mine that day?
Otherwise, how could this charm possibly be here at home?
The moment this thought emerged, Miranda felt all the blood in her body rushing to her head.
"Clifton..."
Miranda murmured his name, her eyes instantly rimming red.
She frantically fumbled her phone from her pocket, her trembling fingers swiping open the screen, pulling up that pinned number and dialing.
"Ring... ring... Sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off."
The cold mechanical female voice came through like a bucket of ice water.
Miranda refused to give up. She hung up and redialed.
Still powered off.
She slid down against the closet to sit on the floor, clutching that pink charm tightly, dialing that number over and over.
Normally, no matter how busy Clifton was, his phone wouldn't stay off.
Unless he was on some special mission, or deliberately ignoring her.
After over a dozen attempts, all powered off.
Miranda took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.
She opened her text message editor, her fingers flying across the keyboard. In her agitation, she mistyped several times.
[Clifton, that day at the mine... did you come looking for me?]
[Was it you who rescued me?]
Message sent.
Miranda stared at the screen, eyes unblinking, afraid to miss any reply.
However, one minute passed, ten minutes passed, an hour passed...
The phone remained quiet, with no activity whatsoever.
Night deepened. The closet's motion sensor light turned off and on, on and off.
Miranda sat there on the floor, clutching that recovered charm, sitting the entire night.
The next morning.
The sound of birds chirping outside was somewhat jarring.
Miranda jolted awake, her first reaction grabbing the phone beside her.
The screen lit up. No missed calls, no new messages.
Those messages she'd sent seemed to have sunk without a trace.
She stubbornly dialed again.
"Sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off..."
The light in Miranda's eyes gradually dimmed. She thought Clifton might really be out on a mission.
But that didn't mean she had to just wait around.
Since she couldn't verify things with Clifton for now, she'd find a breakthrough from another person.
Harrison.
The man who claimed he'd saved her.
Miranda looked at the charm in her palm, her eyes gradually turning cold.
She opened Harrison's chat window and sent a message.
[Restaurant location.]
Noon, twelve o'clock. Private dining room.
This was an extremely difficult restaurant to book, with a serene environment and excellent privacy.
When Miranda arrived, Harrison was already there.
He'd dressed up specially today, wearing a well-tailored bespoke suit, hair perfectly groomed. Seeing Miranda enter, he immediately stood gentlemanly and pulled out her chair.
"Miranda, have a seat."
Harrison wore a gentle smile. "You look tired. Didn't sleep well last night?"
Miranda sat across from him, setting her bag aside, giving a flat "mm."
"Let's order."
She didn't decline as usual but smoothly took the menu and ordered several dishes in one go, all Harrison's favorites.
Harrison was pleasantly surprised, the smile in his eyes deepening. "Miranda, you still remember what I like."
Miranda closed the menu and handed it to the server, then poured herself a glass of water with measured movements.
"Harrison."
She suddenly spoke, her tone so calm it revealed no emotion.
"What is it?" Harrison was immersed in this moment of warmth, not noticing anything amiss.
Miranda's fingers tightened slightly on the glass. She looked up at him, her eyes carrying some probing and deeper meaning.
"Actually, these past few days I've been wanting to thank you."
She paused before continuing, "That day at the mine, the situation was so critical. A secondary collapse could have happened at any moment. If you hadn't risked your life to rush in and save me, I probably... wouldn't have made it out of that pit alive."
Harrison's smile stiffened momentarily, but he quickly covered it.
"I'm just glad I could save you. Let's not dwell on it. Constantly thinking about it isn't good for your health either."
Miranda watched him deflect, her suspicions deepening.
She lowered her eyes, hiding the coldness there, sighing as if casually.
"Though I'm fine, I still feel it's a shame."
"What's a shame?" Harrison asked reflexively.
Miranda lifted her head, looking directly into his eyes, speaking deliberately. "When the accident happened that day, I was wearing my favorite outfit—a white V-neck top. It was limited edition, only a few pieces worldwide. But being buried down there, it got completely black. No amount of washing could get it clean."
As she spoke, she carefully observed Harrison's expression.
"I can't even buy another one now. It's discontinued."
Hearing her familiar tone, Harrison suddenly felt as if they'd returned to before the divorce.
"It's just a piece of clothing. Since you like it, I'll contact the brand and have them custom-make it specially for you."
As his words fell, Miranda looked at the man across from her, the corners of her mouth slowly curving up.
But that smile didn't reach her eyes. Instead, it carried bone-chilling coldness.
As expected, he didn't even know what she'd been wearing that day.