They canceled my flight, so I returned to my mansion in silence. When I opened the door, I found my four-year-old daughter trembling with hunger, clutching a heavy book while my wife snapped, “If you drop it, you start over.”

Lily barely lifted her eyes.
“My tummy hurts, Daddy… I don’t want to go to school.”

“Her stomach is still sensitive,” Stephanie cut in quickly, handing her the green drink. “You remember last time—it almost got serious. She should stay home with me today. I’ll continue her exercises here.”

Alexander nodded, swallowing his doubt. For months, he had been told Lily had a fragile body—low immunity, digestive issues, weakness. Between constant travel and meetings, he chose to believe it.

Lily took the glass with trembling hands and drank it all in one go, suppressing a gag. She didn’t complain. She didn’t react. She simply lowered her gaze again.

The sharp clatter of dishes broke the silence.

Mrs. Carter, the longtime housekeeper, stood stiffly, her lips pressed tight with restrained anger. Her eyes met Alexander’s for just a second. There was something there. Something wrong. Something he chose to ignore.

Before heading to the airport, Lily ran barefoot to him and shoved a crumpled drawing into his hand. It showed a crooked house with every window painted black. In the yard sat a tiny figure… with no mouth.

He wanted to ask her about it. But Stephanie was already guiding her away.