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.

town, I stumbled upon these symbols. Mom, do you

glanced over, a shadow of recognition crossing her features. "I think I've seen these symbols in a book before, but not from around here.

deep into it at the time. It might take a while to dig that

"Thanks, Mom. I want to get to the bottom

move?" Arthur chimed

gaze shifting to the

in front of Vivienne and Sasha. One plate bore thick slices of American toast topped with fried eggs and a generous squirt of ketchup, with Arthur

stoically took a bite. Truth be told, she wasn't much for Western breakfasts, having a

any sign of approval.

to contain himself, Arthur asked, "How's the taste, sweetheart? If it's not good, I'll

urged Vivienne for a serious

"I'm not picky about food. It's alright, but I have a soft spot for traditional meals." Arthur's heart leapt at her

of his kitchen experiments, none

by the missed opportunity, he saw finishing her toast and then starting on the second slice, her expression

separated the strawberry design with her fork, tasting it and said, "Bring it out then. Wasting

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

food skeptically, poking at a charred mass with her fork. "Is

his head, muttering, "It was

get there!" As Sasha pushed a piece onto Vivienne's plate with a triumphant grin,

strained properly. And as for