Chapter 275: Morning Sunlight Streamed Through the Gaps in the Curtains

Morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains. Clara Whitmore stretched lazily.

The refrigerator stood empty. She decided to start with a thorough cleaning.

A thin layer of dust had settled over the untidy room after two weeks. She pulled on rubber gloves and began wiping surfaces in the living room. Dust particles danced in the sunlight like flecks of gold.

Just as she finished mopping, her phone rang abruptly. Sloane Bennett's name flashed on the screen.

"Clara, are you home?" Sloane's voice sounded muffled.

Clara wiped sweat from her forehead. "I was about to go grocery shopping. What's up?"

"I suddenly crave your braised pork ribs." Sloane's voice carried a distinct nasal tone.

Clara set down the cleaning cloth, instantly sensing something amiss. "What happened?"

"Nothing... I just want to see you." A sniffle came through the line.

Clara didn't press further. "Come over. I'll cook for you."

After hanging up, she rushed to the supermarket. Her cart filled with Sloane's favorite ingredients: pork ribs, potatoes, bell peppers...

The doorbell rang as soon as she unpacked the groceries. Sloane clung to her like a koala, eyes rimmed red.

"You always understand me best." Sloane stared at the shopping bags, voice trembling.

Clara patted her back. "Go sit on the couch. It'll be ready soon."

A tantalizing aroma soon wafted from the kitchen. Sloane sat cross-legged on the sofa, peeking toward the kitchen intermittently.

When six perfectly prepared dishes covered the table, Sloane's eyes lit up.

"Want some drinks?" she suddenly suggested.

Clara retrieved two beers from the fridge. Bubbles danced merrily in the glasses as Sloane downed hers in one gulp.

By the third empty can, Sloane's cheeks flushed pink. She swayed the empty container with glazed eyes. "One more~"

"You've had enough." Clara reached for the bottle.

Sloane dodged nimbly, staggering to her feet. "I'll... get it myself!"

She wobbled toward the refrigerator, nearly tripping over the coffee table. Clara caught her just in time.

"I'm not drunk!" Sloane pouted. "Just slipped..."

Clara sighed. "That's what all drunks say."

The words seemed to ignite something. Sloane suddenly grabbed her jacket. "Let's go buy more!"

"Are you insane?" Clara restrained her.

Sloane tilted her head thoughtfully, then pulled out her phone. "Calling a driver..."

After the call connected, she slurred her address. "Pick me up! Need more drinks!"

A pause. Then the voice responded, "Open the door."

"Who says I'll listen to you!" Sloane yelled into the phone, completely missing Clara's frozen expression.