When fate plays its hand

Elizabeth was pacing back and forth anxiously in the adjacent room. She glanced at her watch more than ten times in the last minute.

She bit her lip as the quiet environment amplified the unease in her heart. She reached for her phone several times, but she put it back on the table in the end.

When the time finally came, Elizabeth took a deep breath and opened the door quickly. She stepped into the hallway and adjusted her expression before knocking on Paul’s door.

Putting on a casual tone, Elizabeth called out, “Dr. Jefferson, are you in there? I noticed an issue with the A–3 group data while organizing the experiment reports earlier, but I’m not entirely sure. Can I discuss it with you if it’s convenient?”

There was no response from inside.

“Dr. Jefferson? It’s me, Elizabeth.”

However, there was still no sound.

She guessed that the drug had started to take effect. Paul was probably not doing well in his current state. “Dr. Jefferson! Are you okay? Did something happen? Could you open the door first? I’m getting really worried about you…”

She knocked on the door for a full two minutes. Her hand was turning red, but there was still no response. Elizabeth frowned. Could he have not returned yet?

That couldn’t be right. She had distinctly heard the sound of a door opening next door, and she had even checked through the peephole. Paul had indeed returned to his room 40 minutes

ago.

Could it be that he went out again after returning?

However, it didn’t seem likely at this hour.

Based on what she knew of Paul, he would at least respond even if he didn’t open the door. If someone was truly inside, there was no way he would play deaf like this.

Elizabeth leaned against the door and tried to peek inside through the peephole. She couldn’t see anything as it was pitch black. She pressed her ear against the door, but still, there was no sound.

Elizabeth continued knocking on the door. Finally, she spoke tentatively, “Dr. Jefferson, I know you’re in there. I really have something important to discuss. Can you please open the door?”

There was nothing but dead silence.

The expression on her face darkened. “Dr. Jefferson, people will think something has happened to you if you keep this up. Just to be safe, I’ll call the front desk and get them to

hapter D

bring a spare room key to open the door. I’m serious.”

With that, she took out her phone. Despite her ultimatum, there was still no response from inside. A bad premonition filled her heart.

Elizabeth steeled her resolve and called the front desk. “Hello, my friend might be in trouble inside the room. I’ve been calling him, but there’s no response. Can someone come over with a spare key to open the door?”

While waiting, countless scenarios flashed through her mind.

Had Paul fainted? Or had he fallen asleep?

Or… was the drug so potent that he couldn’t even speak or open the door?

But no matter what the scenario was, Paul should still be inside the room.

However, the quiet room was completely empty when the hotel staff arrived and unlocked the room with the spare key!

Unwilling to give up, Elizabeth checked the bathroom and the balcony once more. “How is this possible?”

The bathroom was still wet, meaning that Paul had indeed returned and taken a shower. The faint fragrance lingering in the air suggested that the drug had taken effect…

But where was Paul?

At that moment, the hotel staff spoke up, “Ms. Lincoln, your friend…”

Elizabeth composed herself and said, “Oh, he’s not in the room. He must have gone out. I’m sorry for causing such an unnecessary fuss.” novelbin

“Are you sure your friend is okay? Do you need the hotel to assist in locating him?”

“No… There’s no need. He probably just stepped out and will be back soon.”

“Alright.” The hotel staff left.

However, Elizabeth grew increasingly uneasy. If Paul had been drugged, where could he have gone in such a short amount of time?

Suddenly, she caught sight of the room across the hall out of the corner of her eye. Narrowing

there?“. her gaze, she walked over and knocked on the door. “Miranda, are you

Soon, a response came from inside. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Elizabeth.”

The next moment, the door opened. Miranda was dressed in her pajamas. Her hair looked- damp, as if she had just finished taking a shower. “What’s the matter?”