The Unlucky Turn by Mark Twain 145
“Don’t worry, I have professional ethics.”
Mr. Dillon’s expression softened slightly, but he still instructed her seriously, “This matter has wide implications. Please keep your lips sealed. Don’t even mention it to Marlon.”
Leilani handed the agreement back and nodded. “Relax. I’m just here to treat the patient; I won’t do anything unnecessary. Now that the agreement is signed, may I leave?”
Mr. Dillon finally smiled. “You may.”
He wanted to see her to the door, but Leilani insisted against it. She was just going back to give Yvonne and Hale their routine treatments and would return soon. She had become familiar with Mr. Dillon over the past few days, so there was no need for formalities.
Leilani walked out of the villa in the suburbs of Brass City. The night wind, carrying the chill of early autumn, brushed against her cheeks. She rubbed her temples and took a few deep breaths, finally feeling her head clear a little. She hadn’t slept well for several days; using acupuncture to force out the poison drained her mental energy immensely.
Mr. Chilton was different from Hale and Yvonne. They were generally healthy, so Leilani could be decisive with her needles, usually taking thirty minutes to an hour. But Mr. Chilton had been poisoned with the rare Thousand-Strand Poison. Touching the wrong area could worsen his condition, so she had to think carefully with every needle placement, consuming a lot of mental effort. Although the onlookers saw her moving quickly, the internal pressure was immense. Every time she finished, her back was
soaked with sweat.
As Leilani reflected on the past few days, the phone in her pocket suddenly vibrated.
Inside the villa, all communication signals were blocked. Now that she had walked out of the signal shielding range, notifications for unread messages and missed calls flooded in
like a tide.
Leilani snapped back to reality, took out her phone, and unlocked the screen. Dozens of WhatsApp notifications and missed call records were stacked on the lock screen, all from the same name: Callahan.
[Where are you?]
[Pick up the phone.]
[Call back immediately when you see this.]
Leilani’s finger paused. She felt a bit puzzled. Their last contact was before her business trip. Dante had arranged a blind date for them, but she had gotten into a car accident, and Callahan had to leave for an emergency. They had missed each other by accident.
She opened WhatsApp. The latest message was from two hours ago: [Pick up the phone.]
14:35
Four short words, yet they carried a suppressed anger.
Leilani scrolled up. Starting from last night, Callahan had called every half hour. The last voice call request had rung for three whole minutes.
Did something happen? Leilani frowned. Callahan was usually calm and composed; this bombardment of contact was highly abnormal. She tapped the screen and dialed him back directly.
The earpiece responded with a mechanical female voice: “The subscriber you dialed cannot be reached at the moment…”
At the same time, thirty thousand feet in the air inside a private jet.
Callahan stared at the “No Signal” notification on his phone screen, his eyes dark and
cold.
“How long until landing?” he asked the assistant in the front row.
The assistant lowered his voice. “Forty minutes to landing.”
14:35
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.