Harold's POV
I frowned, confusion clouding my thoughts. "Why would anyone dig into Phoebe's background? She's just eighteen. What could be worth 15 million dollars to find out?"
Kian looked just as puzzled. "Yeah, I don't get it either. She only came back a few days ago. Do you think it's got something to do with her acupuncture skills?"
Still, even though acupuncture and traditional medicine weren't exactly mainstream in Coralia, you could find decent practitioners if you looked hard enough.
"Don't turn the job down yet," I said, my mind racing. "I'll have Alistair check if this connects to my grandfather."
The same thought that was nagging Kian was eating at me too. To me, Phoebe seemed like any other girl—always wearing that poker face, stubborn as hell sometimes—but if someone was targeting her because she'd helped Mitchell, then this mess was on me.
