The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Upstairs.

Mirabella, clutching her belongings, twisted the knob and pushed open the door to the neighboring room.

–

With a flick of the switch on the wall, the sparse room layout – one bed, one desk came into view, all cast in modern, minimalist decor and suffused with cool tones. On the wall hung two framed certificates of achievement that caught her eye.

She set her things down gently on the desk and made her way over to the certificates. Her curiosity was aroused by the recognitions they bore. One was for the prestigious Norsen Prize in Medical Biology, a hallmark of excellence within the medical community of the States, awarded triennially to individuals who exhibited extraordinary talent in the medical field. The other was the Rasko Medical Award, equally renowned on the international stage. Either accolade on its own was a testament to the significant contributions the recipient had made to medical science.

Mirabella hadn’t expected that this brother of hers, whom she had never met, was a medical prodigy. She noted the date on the awards – both from five years ago. Nick would have been around twenty at that time?

Mirabella’s curiosity about this Nick intensified. It was a shame he was abroad. Otherwise, it could have been an opportunity for an engaging exchange.

Shifting her focus, she drew the curtains closed, turned on the air conditioning, and waited for the room to reach the desired temperature before she began sorting through the heap of herbal ingredients on

the desk.

Creating incense sticks wasn’t particularly challenging, but the trick lay in precisely calculating the amount and ratio of powdered sandalwood and medicinal herbs. While not a professional incense maker, Mirabella had a natural affinity for mixing fragrances and compounding medicines. Her ability to combine several potent herbs without causing adverse reactions and her near–obsessive precision in understanding and manipulating medicinal properties were nothing short of extraordinary. Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

For her, concocting the composition for Incense of Calm was a walk in the park.

Two hours later, Mirabella set down her tools and gazed at the freshly molded incense sticks on the cutting board, exhaling deeply. All that remained was for the incense to dry out completely over the next couple of hours, signaling the success of her endeavor.

She twisted her stiff neck and glanced down at her fingers smeared with incense clay before heading to the washroom to clean up.,

After lingering in the room for another half–hour to ensure the incense was problem–free, Mirabella finally opened the door to leave. No sooner had she pulled the door shut than she saw Zach stumbling at the stairwell.

12:221

Quickening her pace, Mirabella moved toward him. Her nose was immediately assaulted by the pungent scent of alcohol. She frowned and hurriedly steadied him.

Zach, slightly inebriated but conscious, beamed at Mirabella. His grin bloomed like a flower. “Mira, did you wait up just for me to get home?”

At the sound of “Mira,” Mirabella’s support slackened, and Zach, caught off guard, bumped into the wall. He hissed in pain, catching himself against the wall to prevent a fall. When he turned his head, his glasses were askew, teetering on the brink of tumbling off. “You…”

Mirabella adjusted his glasses for him. Her expression was unaltered as she said, “Sorry, Zach, I don’t have much strength. I couldn’t hold you.”

Zach, his mind muddled by alcohol, processed the words more slowly than usual. “Oh, oh, no worries. My bad.”