It came from Mitchel’s belly.
She gave him a surprised look and then glanced at the untouched bowl of soup on the nightstand. “Hungry, huh?” she asked with a smile.
Mitchel sat in the dimly lit room, his shoulders slumped and his eyes fixed on the floor. Clearly, he didn’t want to admit that he was hungry.
Despite his best efforts to hide it, his stomach betrayed him again, growling loudly.
Marlowe suppressed a chuckle as she carried the untouched bowl of soup over to him. “Here you go; dig in. It won’t cost you anything to eat!”
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However, Mitchel didn’t move.
Marlowe was confused as she looked at Mitchel. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to eat? Well, I’m sorry but this is all I can give you right now given your condition.”
Mitchell’s gaze lingered on the unappetizing sight of the soup sitting in front of him. After a moment of contemplation, he finally admitted in a slow and hesitant tone, “I’m not a fan of soup.”
Marlowe was left speechless.
After a short moment of silence, she looked at Mitchel and muttered, “You picky eater.”
She then took away the bowl of uneaten soup and returned a few minutes later with some bread.
This time, Mitchel gladly ate.
When he had completed his meal, he carefully examined the wound on his shoulder and turned to Marlowe with a concerned expression. “Do you happen to have a first aid kit handy?” he inquired. “I’m capable of tending the wound myself.”
“Oh, sure,” Marlowe replied at once and fetched the first aid kit she had brought. She took some clean gauze and some bandages from the kit and handed them to him.
Under Marlowe’s impressed gaze, Mitchel expertly removed the old bandages from his wound and disinfected the wound. Then, he applied some medication to the wound before putting on new bandages. His movements were smooth.
Marlowe was really impressed, and she couldn’t help but compliment him. “You’re really good with your hands. In fact, you’re even more skillful with your hands than some doctors I’ve seen.”
Mitchel, who had just finished tending to his wound, just glanced at Marlowe without saying anything. Marlowe, on the other hand, didn’t try to continue the conversation. She said in a flat tone, “Get some rest now. I’m going to check if Grandpa is resting.”
With that, she hurried downstairs.
Later in the afternoon, Granger went to his room for his nap.
Marlowe took the opportunity to go upstairs to call Mitchel down. But just as she reached the room upstairs, a storm suddenly started outside.
Marlowe gazed out the window at the fierce storm unleashing torrents of rain, claps of thunder echoing through the air. She then turned to Mitchel with concern etched across her face. “Here, storms Like this one bring heavy downpours. Given your injuries, it’s best for you to stay indoors for the time being.”
Mitchel also looked at the heavy rain, frowning. He seemed worried and tried to persuade Marlowe into taking him out. “But…”
“Alright, listen to me now,” Marlowe cut him off before he could say anything. “If you collapse in the street again, I won’t have the strength to drag you back. Besides, if you fall into a coma for a few days again, you won’t be able to make that call, either.”
Marlowe took a short pause and then added in a low voice, “The weather forecast didn’t announce any rain today. Hopefully it would pass soon.”