Tristan Davis explained patiently, “If you’d stop stirring up trouble, I wouldn’t have to block your number.”
Cynthia Rivera muttered, “Come on, when have I ever caused trouble? I just told you about Emily Blair—that’s all true, I didn’t even exaggerate or anything…”
“Cynthia.” Tristan’s voice dropped, a warning edge creeping in.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, growing impatient. “If you called just to gossip about this, I’m hanging up. There’s nothing more to say.”
“No, wait! Don’t hang up, it took me forever to get through to you!” Cynthia pleaded, her tone a mix of frustration and wounded pride. “I barely got a chance to talk before you cut me off. Why do you care so much about Emily Blair, anyway…”
“Don’t mention her,” Tristan said, struggling to keep his irritation in check. “If you have something important, say it. If not, I’m hanging up.”
Cynthia went quiet for a second, then said softly, “Tristan, don’t be like this with me.”
“I’m hanging up,” Tristan said flatly.
“Your parents are coming back from overseas!” Cynthia blurted out, anxious.
Tristan’s hand paused midair, just as he was about to end the call. His brow furrowed. “How do you know? When are they coming?”
His parents’ careers kept them abroad, and he’d spent most of his childhood being looked after by Steven Davis. It had been years since his parents set foot back home; these days, their contact was limited to the occasional phone call or video chat.
“They’ll be back soon—just a few days,” Cynthia said gently. “They didn’t want to bother you since you’re busy, so they planned to tell you the day they arrive. I thought you should know ahead of time.”
“Alright, got it. Anything else?” Tristan asked.
“Yes, wait, don’t hang up yet.” Cynthia’s voice softened, almost shy. “Your parents called me a few days ago. They want us to settle things while they’re back.”
Tristan’s frown deepened. “Settle what, exactly?”
Without waiting for a response, he headed for the balcony, phone in hand.
“Oh… okay,” Emily replied, a little bewildered.
Elizabeth Wilson, sitting nearby, mouthed silently at Emily, “What’s going on?”
Emily shook her head. “No idea.”
Elizabeth didn’t press. She grabbed her folder and slid onto the couch beside Emily, lowering her voice while Tristan was still outside. “Are you going to tell Tristan about your blind date?”
Emily hesitated, glancing sideways at her friend.
Elizabeth nudged her. “Well? Are you?”

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