Chapter 9
You Need Your Strength
After the blessing ceremony ended, the tension in the hall eased like a bowstring finally released. People exchanged uncertain glances before Mr. Haris Halton stood, voice booming across the room.
"Now, let us move forward and celebrate this joyous occasion with a feast! Please enjoy what we've prepared."
Servants flowed from the kitchen like a well-rehearsed performance, trays balanced on their shoulders. Rich, fragrant dishes lifted the mood slightly. The guests seemed eager to replace scandal with beef in a coconut sauce and gossip with seafoods or grilled skewers.
I stood a moment, watching it all unfold; the laughter, the clinking glasses, the forced cheer. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since morning. I approached the buffet, reaching for chiken grilled skewers, but a hand beat me to it.
"You following me?" Dafa's voice was low and teasing. When I turned, his face was only inches away.
"Says the man standing directly behind me."
He chuckled, his eyes looked warm. "You looked like you were about to faint earlier. Let me help you."
Before I could protest, he took an empty plate and began selecting dishes carefully, thoughtfully, choosing both the comforting and the rich. It felt like he was tending to more than just an empty stomach.
"Eat this. You need your strength," he said, handing me the plate.
I accepted it. Brushing his fingers, I felt heat rush to my cheeks.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. I'll take care of you from now on."
His voice was steady, honest. I didn't know how to answer that, so I looked at the food instead.
As we walked, I couldn't help but notice the way the other guests were watching us.
"Maybe they're all wondering what we're talking about," I murmured, as feeling a bit self conscious under their scrutiny.
Dafa shrugged, his expression unconcerned. "Let them wonder then."
We found a quiet corner, away from all the prying eyes. I forced my tense shoulders to relax as I took a bite.
To be honest, this was the best food I had ever tasted. Each bite was an explosion of flavor, a symphony of spices and textures that danced on my tongue. In the countryside, I only cooked simple dishes, relying on fresh ingredients and traditional recipes. But this was something else entirely, a culinary masterpiece crafted by skilled hands.
The chicken skewers melted on my tongue, the spices warm and rich. I closed my eyes, savoring it, forgetting everything for a moment.
As I enjoyed the food, Dafa just looked at me, his gaze intense and unwavering, like I was the most fascinating thing in the world. It made me feel both cherished and unnerved. I lowered my gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny.
"You're not eating?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
"I'm not hungry," he said.
"You could've said so earlier."
He shrugged. "I'll eat later. Right now, you're more important."
I froze. The words hung thick between us unexpected, honest, heavy. I tried to focus on my plate, heart thumping too hard.
Silence fell again, thick and heavy. Maybe it was because it was still one of our first meetings, or maybe it was the weight of everything that had happened earlier, but the air felt charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. I didn't know where the bravery I had possessed earlier had gone; now, I felt shy and uncertain under his intense gaze.
I continued to savor my food, trying to focus on the delicious flavors and ignore the nervous flutter in my chest. But just as I was starting to relax, I heard a shriek that ran a chill through my spine.
The shriek cut through the murmur of the party like a knife, instantly silencing the conversations and drawing everyone's attention. I froze, my fork clattering against my plate. My heart pounded in my chest, and a sense of dread washed over me.
Dafa's eyes widened, his jaw tightened. "What was that?" he murmured, his voice tight with concern. He stood up quickly, knocking over his chair in the process.
Before I could answer, another shriek echoed through the hall, even louder and more desperate than the first. This time, I could clearly make out the words:
"Grandmother! Someone help!"
The hall froze. Dafa shot to his feet, chair tipping over behind him.
"It's grandma," he breathed. "Something's wrong."
We ran.
I pushed through the throng of concerned guests, my eyes searching for Grandmother Halton.
When I finally reached her, Grandmother Halton was on the floor, Monica kneeling beside her, desperately patting her cheeks.
"Oh my God. I don't know what happened! Someone call a doctor!" Monica shrieked.
The crowd gathered in a circle, half concerned, half desperate to witness more drama. Minerva Halton's face was pale.
"The doctor isn't here. He left for a conference out of town."
Panic pulsed through the hall like a living thing. The atmosphere shifted from tension to fear in a matter of heartbeats, every eye drawn to the fallen grandmother and the tight circle of family members who surrounded her.
Dafa knelt beside his grandmother, one hand on her shoulder. His face was full of fear held together by sheer force of will.
"Grandmother, talk to me," he whispered, voice tight.
I hovered close as my heart hammering. The worry lines etched into his face made something inside me ache. I couldn't stand back and watch.
Without hesitating, I knelt beside her. "Let me see," I said quietly.
Monica, the daughter of Halton stared at me like I'd grown horns.
"What are you doing? Don't touch her!"
I gently lifted the old woman's wrist. Her pulse was faint. Hands trembling, cold. Her breath came in short gasps.
"She's in shock. We need to elevate her legs for circulation and loosen her clothing."
I found a fallen cushion and placed it under her legs, then unfastened her collar slightly. People watched with suspicion, judgment, resentment but I didn't care. I wasn't doing this for them.