Chapter 223: Elise Warren's Tongue Seemed Tied in Knots

Elise Warren's tongue seemed tied in knots, unable to squeeze out a single word.

The lab members exchanged glances, the air so thick with tension you could wring water from it.

"P-Professor..." Felix Moreau's gaze darted between Elias Mercer and Clara Whitmore like he'd discovered a new continent.

Celia Monroe's lips pressed into a tight line, frost gathering in her eyes.

"Elias, what kind of show are you putting on?" Theo Marsh broke the silence bluntly.

Elias rested his slender fingers against the doorframe. "Helping out. Isn't it obvious?"

"Helping all the way to Clara's apartment? How... thoughtful." Theo teased.

Elias arched an eyebrow. "Better a good neighbor than some people waiting to be served."

"Neighbor? What do you mean?"

Clara quickly explained, "Professor Mercer lives across the hall. This afternoon when I left the lab to buy groceries, I ran into him driving to the supermarket. He gave me a ride."

"Oh." Elise exhaled in relief.

For a moment she'd thought there was something shady going on between them!

Felix wiped cold sweat from his brow. Thank goodness it was just a misunderstanding.

The gloom lifted from Celia's face. "Should we eat?"

"Yes, yes!" Elise nodded eagerly.

Clara gestured, "Everyone take a seat. Just two more dishes coming right up!"

The atmosphere at the table gradually warmed.

Elise raved about the sweet and sour ribs while Felix devoured three bowls of rice.

Even diet-conscious Celia couldn't resist an extra half portion.

Damn that spicy fish—it was too good with rice...

After dinner, Clara saw the guests out.

To be precise, Clara and Elias saw the guests out together.

Though they knew the two were just neighbors, their side-by-side figures created an oddly harmonious picture.

Elise kept glancing back, sensing something amiss.

Felix hovered near Celia. "It's late—let me walk you home?"

"No need. I drove."

"Then... be careful."

Celia got in her car but didn't start the engine immediately. She scrolled through her contacts and dialed a number.

"Still in real estate?"

"Just scraping by. What brings you to me?"

Celia bit her lower lip. "I want to rent an apartment near Ashford University. Must be a walk-up, close to the library."

"A walk-up? You sure?"

The voice on the other end clearly hesitated.

"Positive."

"The only place matching that... is the old faculty housing by the south gate."

Celia's eyes lit up. "Perfect!"

"But the area's run down, no property management..."

"Doesn't matter. Find it quickly."

Hanging up, Celia gripped the steering wheel.

If Clara Whitmore could do it, so could Celia Monroe.