"How much do they owe you? I'll pay for it," Lara asked firmly, her voice slicing through the tension in the air like a blade.
Healer U-Mao tilted his head upward to look at her. Being short and wiry, his piercing eyes barely reached her neck, but they held a cold, calculating sharpness that made him seem taller in her presence.
Before the healer could respond, his wife, a stout woman with flushed cheeks and greedy eyes, stepped forward. "In that case, you'll owe us 100 silver coins," she declared, her voice smug and cutting.
Abel's face turned red. "Grandma Melba, how did it jump to 100 silvers? Healer U-Mao only made a few visits and gave us a few sachets of herbs!" His voice rose, frustration spilling over.
