Emily descended the stairs directly to the lobby on the first floor. Steven saw her coming and quickly caught up. “Miranda, while you’re in New York, I’ll be taking care of everything regarding your accommodation. Do you have any specific requests for the hotel? I can book it right away.” Emily looked at him, “Did Mr. Norman send you?” “No, it was Dylan who asked me to come,” Steven replied with a slightly awkward smile. “He said you might not want to see him and since I’m a new face, you might not feel too opposed.” Emily hummed, “He certainly knows me well.” “Well, Dylan has been Mr. Norman’s assistant for so many years. He’s very experienced.” Steven noticed Emily's red eyes, as if she had just been crying. To change the subject, he added, “About the hotel…” “North-facing, not much sunlight, and a room with a kitchen—those are my requirements,” Emily replied. Steven nodded eagerly. “Got it, I’ll take care of it now.” He jogged ahead of her to hold the door open as they exited the building. Emily, lost in her thoughts, barely acknowledged his courtesy as she walked out. The valet had already brought the car around, and Steven took the keys from him. He opened the car door for Emily, placing a hand above the frame to prevent her from hitting her head. “Miranda, please get in.” “Where are you taking me? Isn’t the hotel not booked yet?” Emily asked. “Dylan instructed me to take you to get something to eat first. You’ve just had a long flight and haven’t rested, yet you went straight to work. Do you have any particular cravings?” Emily hesitated, her body too exhausted to argue over trivial matters. She ducked into the car and said, “Whatever’s quick is fine.” “Alright, something light then? Maybe porridge?” “...That’s fine,” she replied. Steven started the car slowly, driving carefully as the heater filled the car with warmth. “Feel free to take a nap, Miranda. There’s a well-known porridge place on the east side of the city—it’ll take about an hour to get there. I’ll wake you up when we arrive.”Emily, lulled by the warmth of the car, closed her eyes, her head leaning back against the seat. She didn’t fall fully asleep but drifted in a half-conscious state. She knew New York too well. Having lived here for twenty-six years, she could navigate the streets and alleys with her eyes closed. Every corner carried the weight of her memories. “The road ahead is often jammed. Turn right for a quicker route,” she murmured. Steven was startled. “Miranda, you weren’t asleep?” Emily slowly opened her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.” “Maybe it’s the jet lag. Take a right here?” Steven glanced at her. “Were you originally from New York? You seem very familiar with the roads here.” Emily’s answer was vague. “I have family here.” “Got it.” The rest of the drive passed in silence. Emily had no desire to talk, and Steven, unable to figure out who this woman really was—a British national but also someone so familiar with New York’s streets—decided to stay quiet. Dylan had been clear: make her comfortable, no mistakes. After an hour, the car stopped in front of a small porridge shop. The shop wasn’t big—one of those hidden gems in a narrow alleyway—but it was bustling, filled with patrons coming in and out, while the owner moved frantically behind the counter. “Let’s go in.” Steven stepped out of the car, about to open Emily’s door, when she said, “Let’s go somewhere else. Find a quieter place; I have some things I want to ask you.” Steven paused, hand on the door handle. “This place has great reviews online. Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try? We’re already here.” “No, find someplace quiet. I have questions for you.” Noticing her serious tone, Steven agreed. Eventually, they ended up at a high-end private dining establishment. The place was quiet, the decor refined—due to the high price, it was mostly empty, making it a good setting for conversation. Emily showed little interest in the menu the waiter brought, so Steven ordered a few of the restaurant's signature dishes before dismissing the waiter. He then poured her a cup of tea himself. “Miranda, you should try this tea. It’s made from melted snow with the finest green tea leaves. Many patrons come here just for it.”Emily nodded, taking a small sip. The tea was indeed pure, with a delicate aftertaste. “It is good tea.” Steven smiled. “Glad you like it.” Emily stared at the steam rising from her cup, her gaze distant. After a long silence, she finally spoke. “How is Meggie’s health?” Steven wasn’t surprised by the question and answered frankly, “Not great. After all, she’s elderly, and her hypertension has been ongoing for years. We’re doing our best to care for her.” “Has she been discharged?” “Not yet. Dylan said she might be discharged this weekend. Mr. Norman plans to pick her up personally.” Emily nodded. “I’ll write a prescription for you. Give it to Dylan when you get back and tell him it’s from me. It’s a tea formula for Meggie—she can drink it to help with her condition.” “Sure, will do.” She typed up the prescription and sent it to Steven via email. Since her phone didn’t have the local messaging apps, she had to do it this way. Steven didn’t ask further questions; he understood that his role was simply to do as he was told. The rest was none of his business. Soon, the dishes began arriving, but Emily had little appetite, barely eating a few bites before stopping. “Miranda, I’ve booked a hotel for you. I’ll take you there after this. If you need any supplies, just make a list, and I’ll buy everything you need,” Steven offered. “I’d like to visit a supermarket myself,” Emily said. “Just drop me at the hotel afterward, and then you can call it a day.” Steven wouldn’t dare do that—Dylan was still waiting for him back at the office, and he needed to report after ensuring everything was taken care of for Emily. Once they were done, Steven drove Emily to the hotel. By now, the sky had grown dark, and the streets glowed with neon lights that made it difficult to recognize anything clearly. “We’re here,” Steven said, pulling up in front of the Hilton. “This Hilton is one of the best five-star hotels in the city. I booked room 2307 for you—it’s on the north side, with less sunlight, and has a kitchen, just like you asked.”Emily froze at the mention of 2307. “You did that on purpose?” she asked. “What?” Steven looked confused. “What do you mean?” “Never mind.” It seemed Steven truly had no idea. But the coincidence made her feel uneasy. “Change my room, please.” “But the other rooms don’t have a kitchen, or they might be on the sunny side…” “It doesn’t matter,” Emily interrupted. “Just make sure it’s not 2307.”