A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 174

She really didn’t see any need to get closer to Lorraine.

Maybe it was the bluntness of her rejection, but for the first time, Lorraine–normally so deft at navigating social situations–let her expression tighten for a second.

Others in the common area glanced over, curiosity piqued by the shift in atmosphere.

Lorraine’s face smoothed again into polite indifference. “Alright then. Maybe next time.”

“Sure.”

Elissa nodded, watching as Lorraine walked away.

She had just reached the lab door when voices drifted over from the common room, edged with mockery. “She really thinks she’s something, huh? Not even giving Secretary Lynn the time of day.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

That second voice was familiar–a colleague from the Traditional Medicine Unit. “Doesn’t she realize who Secretary Lynn is? She’s almost certainly going to be the future CEO’s wife.”

Elissa paused mid–step.

The comments kept coming. “Honestly, you all in Traditional Medicine Unit should quit while you’re ahead. If she’s brave enough to offend the future CEO’s wife, who knows how long your team will last?”

Expression hardening, Elissa spun on her heel and strode straight toward them. She slammed her coffee cup onto the table with a thud. “If the only way you know how to do research is by sucking up and playing favorites-”

“-then honestly, you might as well just pack it in right now!”

A roomful of grown men sat there, stunned into silence by her blunt

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Chapter 174

reprimand, each wearing a different shade of embarrassment.

By the time they found their voices again, Elissa had already disappeared into the lab, pouring herself into her work.

Zachary Jones raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t she have a point?”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get back to work! It’s embarrassing enough to be outpaced by a young woman–don’t make it worse.”

Elissa ignored whatever else they were grumbling about. She focused entirely on her research.

The sooner she developed this treatment, the more lives she could save–and the more hope she could give to desperate families.

And for herself, it meant strength. Freedom.

On her way home that evening, she made a detour to pick up dinner from a little cafe that Tanya Foster loved; their nourishing chicken stew was Tanya’s favorite comfort food.

Elissa had a real gift for traditional medicine, and was competent in most

other things too.

Cooking, however, was her Achilles‘ heel.

Back in her student days, when she was too broke for proper meals, she’d lived on instant noodles–three times a day, without complaint.

After marrying Frank, who always kept her at arm’s length, she’d thought maybe cooking for him would help close the distance between them.

It ended with a meal even the bravest wouldn’t dare swallow.

Edna had begged her to just stick to prescribing herbal remedies–there were plenty of staff for kitchen duties, and no need for her to torture anyone with her cooking.

After dinner, Elissa watched Tanya finish her medicine before clearing the table, bundling up the trash to take downstairs.

Back at home, she took a quick shower and changed into a nightgown.

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Chapter 174

Tanya’s voice, hoarse from her illness, called out from the couch, “Put a coat on, will you? Don’t catch a cold too.”

Elissa, who hated the dark and never went near the garbage cans in the basement garage, always took the trash out to the main level.

Tonight, the wind outside was howling, cold enough to cut straight through you.

Heeding Tanya’s advice, Elissa wrapped herself in a long down coat, grabbed the trash, and opened her apartment door–only to halt suddenly.

Across the hall, just outside Rowan’s apartment, a woman was standing.

Even from behind, Elissa recognized Lorraine instantly.

She watched Lorraine punch in the door code with practiced ease and let herself in.

Elissa quickly shut her own door, a strange discomfort prickling beneath

her skin.

Lorraine came and went from his place like she lived there.

The sensation was foreign, unpleasant–like someone had sliced open a lemon and, drop by drop, was forcing the juice past her lips, down her throat, leaving a sourness that spread through her whole body.

Even her fingertips tingled with the ache of it.

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