The Million-Dollar Heart

Sasha leaned on her hand with a smirk, grasping a first aid kit in the other, diligently applying ointment to Vivienne's bruised cheek.

Vivienne's lips, a shade of crimson, curled slightly. "This jacket of mine is barely holding together, might as well let him throw in the towel."

Sasha's brows knitted slightly at the comment, pressing a bit harder with the ointment. Vivienne hissed, "Geez, tough love! Got a husband and forgot your daughter, huh?"

"Zip it, or my hand might 'accidentally' slip, making you yelp in pain," Sasha retorted, pinching Vivienne's chin.

The banter went back and forth between the mother and daughter, with Vivienne occasionally dropping hints about her latest findings.

"Just the other day, I mentioned that case where the woman's heart was harvested. It wasn't an isolated incident; there have been disappearances elsewhere too. Yesterday, Mr. Wolf and I tracked a lead to a small town, and if I'm not mistaken, that place is swarming with snipers."

"What's odd, though, is that when Mr. Wolf and I entered, nobody took a shot at us. Logically, they should've taken us out on sight."

Sasha furrowed her brows, her tone grave, "You and Percival might be carrying something they need."

Vivienne seemed to agree with that theory. But what could it be that they needed?

Shifting gears, Vivienne dipped her finger in a glass of water, sketching symbols she recalled seeing in the town on the dining table.

Each symbol appeared simple yet was difficult to replicate accurately. She managed to draw them roughly on the table.

upon these

her features. "I think I've seen these symbols in a book before, but not from around here. They're from a

deep into it at the time. It

to the bottom of

Arthur chimed in, entering with two

shifting to the trays

with fried eggs

toast's smiley faces, paused, then stoically took a bite. Truth be told, she wasn't much for Western breakfasts, having a preference for something more

any sign of approval. Vivienne ate

asked, "How's the taste, sweetheart? If it's not good, I'll make

Vivienne

not picky about food. It's alright, but I have a soft spot for traditional meals." Arthur's heart leapt at her response, blurting out, "I made a traditional breakfast too,

regretting his words, he remembered the chaos of his kitchen experiments, none of which turned

and then starting

the strawberry design with her fork, tasting it and said, "Bring

to the kitchen, returning with his attempt at a traditional breakfast and a jug of homemade

charred mass with her fork. "Is this supposed to be

muttering, "It was supposed to

of sympathy and pride, patting him on the back. "You're just starting out. Keep practicing, and maybe get some tips from the chef. You'll get there!" As

"This soy milk hasn't been strained properly. And as for this 'great