Celestine's striking, fox-like eyes were wide with astonishment.
Her apartment building had just two units per floor.
And the only person who lived next door was Clifton.
Clifton… Mr. Prescott…
She whipped her head toward Gideon.
No way. It couldn't be that much of a coincidence, could it?
Gideon arched an eyebrow, his deep gray eyes almost as if he could read her mind. "It's exactly that much of a coincidence."
He strode out of the elevator without another word.
Celestine stared at his broad back, suddenly remembering all those times Clifton had rambled about his second grandson—the one who was supposedly about to take religious vows and retreat from the world.
So it's him?
Her mind started to merge the two images together.
She never would have imagined the world could be this small.
Steeling herself, she stepped out of the elevator.
Gideon was leaning lazily against his front door, watching her intently, making no move to go inside.
"What is it?" Celestine kept her gaze down, her voice barely above a whisper.
She frantically tried to recall whether she'd ever said anything embarrassing in front of this grandfather-grandson duo.
Gideon glanced at the basil in her arms. "Weren't you going to give that to the gentleman next door?"
Her eyelashes fluttered. "Oh—right. Yes… Thank you for helping."
She quickly shoved the basil into his hands, turned, unlocked her own door, and all but fled inside.
He lingered in the hallway, staring at her closed door. After a moment, he let out a low, amused snort.
Back inside, Celestine set down her things.
She felt as if all the strength had drained from her body and collapsed onto the sofa.
Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying!
A delayed blush spread across her cheeks, hot and burning.
Whatever plans she'd made for tonight were officially postponed.
She threw together a quick bowl of pasta for dinner.
At nine o'clock, her phone chimed with a message from Gideon.
[Mr. Shield]: I'm heading out.
"You did?!" Clifton brightened, then caught sight of the ointment in her hand and suddenly understood. "Oh! So you're the neighbor that rascal was talking about—the one he was bringing the basil to!"
No wonder that boy, who never visits unless he wants something, came by today—and even swiped a jar of my secret scar ointment! Unbelievable!
Clifton, feeling quite pleased with himself for piecing it all together, cleared his throat. "Did he tell you how to use that scar cream? Never mind, that kid doesn't know. You should listen to me."
Celestine latched onto the most important detail. "Wait—this is… for scars?"
"That's right. He asked me for it specially." Clifton's tone grew more serious, hinting for her to trust him. "Don't worry, I'm a licensed physician. You can use it with confidence."
Celestine knew Clifton loved tending to his plants and often made little herbal sachets for her, but she hadn't realized he was actually a doctor.
"Thank you, Clifton. Let me pay you for this."
"No need! It's nothing, just a little homemade remedy!"
Clifton pretended to be offended at the suggestion.
Celestine relented and thanked him again before heading back inside with her prize.
Five minutes ago, her phone had buzzed with another message from Gideon.
[Mr. Shield]: Twice a day, morning and night. Apply to the scar by your eye, massage gently for three minutes.
Instinctively, Celestine reached up and touched the crescent-shaped scar at the corner of her eye.
She'd gotten it the last time she was pushed from a chair at the Fordham family's house.
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