Floyd's POV

I’d been away on a work trip overseas for a year when I suddenly received a selfie from my daughter, Zera Johnson with a message, saying, [Daddy, I miss you.]

I thought she was just feeling down because she missed me. I was about to reply with some comforting words when I noticed a faint scratch on her collarbone. Curious, I zoomed in. That’s when I realized it wasn’t just a single scratch — there were dark bruises trailing down her arm as well.

As I mulled over what I was seeing, I mindlessly scrolled through social media and stumbled upon a post from Astrid Motley, the girl we’d taken in two years ago. She was showing off her birthday gifts, each one expensive and extravagant. But what caught my eye wasn’t the gifts — it was the stuffed bunny sitting on her nightstand — Zera’s favorite stuffed bunny.

I still remember giving it to her on her third birthday. She clung to that bunny every night to sleep. How did it end up in Astrid's room?

I immediately called my wife, Rhea Johnson, who was still back home, but she only complained that I was turning a molehill into a mountain.

"It’s just an old toy. Maybe Zera gave it to Astrid because she didn’t want it anymore," she said, brushing off my concerns.

But something didn’t sit right with me. The more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt. So, I decided to dig into Astrid's spending records, and what I found left me stunned.

Worse than that, my wife knew about it. And she let it happen.

——

I had just closed a multi-million-dollar deal with an international client when I got Zera's message. Seeing her sad little face tugged at my heart. I wanted to tell her I’d be home soon and that we could go on vacation together. But after noticing those faint bruises, I hesitated.

I tried asking her about them gently, but her answers were scattered, and soon she stopped replying altogether.

Worried, I checked her social media for clues, but what I found instead was Astrid's latest post. There it was again — Zera's precious bunny, sitting on Astrid's bed.

That bunny meant everything to Zera. Once, when we went to her grandmother's house and forgot to bring it along, she cried all night and even spiked a fever so high that we almost lost her. After that, we never left home without it.

Recalling that, I called Rhea again, pressing her about the bunny. But again, she just brushed me off with the same reason.

"She’s thirteen now. It’s normal for kids to outgrow their toys," she snapped, her tone impatient. "Maybe she gave it to Astrid. Stop overthinking and focus on work." Right after saying that, she directly hung up on me.

Her reaction didn’t sit right. Rhea used to dote on Zera. When Zera was little, even the smallest scrape would send her into a panic, insisting we rush to the hospital. And she definitely wouldn’t have forgotten the fever incident. But lately, her care for our daughter lessened. Even when Zera accidentally cut her hand, Rhea would have just told her to clean it with disinfectant herself.

The unease gnawed at me. So, I handed off the rest of my project to a colleague and booked the next flight home.

While waiting at the airport, I checked Astrid's social media again. But this time, her posts were gone.

Then I remembered my old backup account. I logged in and checked again. Sure enough, the posts were still there — she'd blocked me.

Looking closer, I realized every single item in her photos was designer. A limited-edition Louis Vuitton bag. A necklace worth tens of thousands of dollars.

Astrid was only thirteen!

Floyd's POV

Astrid was just a girl we took in a couple of years ago. How did she get so much money?

On the other hand, Zera, we raised her to be modest and never show off. The most expensive clothing she owned didn’t even cost a hundred dollars. Curious and uneasy, I called our housekeeper and driver to ask about Astrid.

Surprisingly, they all said the same thing — that Astrid was a sweet, frugal girl. They claimed she rarely spent money on herself, wearing her clothes until they were practically threadbare.

But the more they praised her, the more uneasy I felt. It sounded rehearsed, almost like they were covering something up.

If Astrid was so frugal, then where did the designer bags and expensive jewelry come from? Was I really overthinking things?

When news spread that I was coming back, my employees offered to pick me up at the airport. They joked that after nearly a year apart, they might not recognize their boss.

I’d built my company from the ground up, starting as a low-level employee and working my way up. This past year had been crucial for the company’s growth, which meant I barely spent time with my family. So, I was so excited to see my wife and daughter even before the flight.

As soon as my plane landed after the three-hour flight, I declined my colleagues’ invitation to celebrate my return and hailed a cab straight home.

It was already 11 PM when I arrived — a time when everyone should’ve been asleep. But Zera’s room was still lit.

I crept down the hall and peeked inside. I saw her hunched over her desk, frantically scribbling away. Her face was also tight with anxiety and her eyes were distant and unfocused.

My heart clenched upon seeing her pitiful appearance. Was school piling on too much work? Why was she up so late?

I pushed the door open, hoping to surprise her. But instead, she flinched, instinctively shielding her face like she expected to be hit. Her body then curled into itself, trembling.

"Zera, it’s okay. It’s me."

She froze for a moment before hurling herself into my arms.

"Daddy! You’re finally back!" she whispered, her body shaking. Silent tears streamed down her face as if she was afraid of making too much noise and waking the others.

I held her close, rubbing her back gently. "Daddy's home now. But why are you still doing homework this late?"

I reached for her workbook, but before I could touch it, she quickly grabbed it and hid it from me.

Still, I caught a glimpse of the name on the cover — Astrid Motley.

It wasn’t hers.

Before I could say anything, a soft voice came from the doorway.

"Daddy? When did you get back?"

It was Astrid, standing timidly at the door.

I looked at her, then back at the workbook. "Astrid, why is your homework in Zera’s room?"

Her eyes darted nervously to Zera before settling on me.

"Zera saw I had a lot of homework, so she offered to help," she said with a sweet smile.

But when I looked at Zera, she immediately lowered her head as she confirmed, "It’s true… I offered to help. It’s not her fault."

However, her voice quivered and her small frame was shaking with fear. So, I wasn’t convinced.

But when my gaze shifted back to Astrid, she just shrugged nonchalantly.

"You heard her. Zera wanted to help. I didn’t force her." She then turned to Zera and added in a soft but unsettling voice, "Right, sis?"

That "sis" lingered in the air, syrupy and false.

It sounded harmless to me, but I noticed Zera turned pale.

Floyd's POV

"Yes, sis," Zera whispered.

Seeing her so meek broke my heart and stoked my anger. Zera was supposed to be the cherished princess of this house — when did she start tiptoeing around an outsider?

"Astrid, take your workbook and do your own assignments. Don’t push your responsibilities onto others," I ordered.

Astrid didn’t argue. She grabbed her workbook and slipped back into her room.

Afterward, I turned back to Zera. But I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted, and her face had lost its color. She was a shadow of the bright girl I remembered before my business trip.

Suddenly, she clung to my hand like I might vanish. "Daddy, you’re staying this time, right? You’re not leaving again?"

Her pleading tone pierced my heart.

"I’m staying, sweetie. Daddy’s not going anywhere."

I’d always believed that giving her a comfortable life was enough — providing a secure home, a good education, and a bright future. But now I realized I’d missed something crucial. At her age, mental health mattered most. She needed me — my presence, my love — and money couldn’t replace that.

When I asked about her mother, she tensed.

"Mom said she had work. She’ll be home late."

I frowned in confusion. Work? At this hour?

Still, I shrugged it off and urged Zera to sleep instead. But she refused to leave my side. In the end, I let her sleep in the master bedroom while I made a bed for myself on the floor.

After I told her a bedtime story and before she drifted off, I gently asked about the bruises on her arms and neck.

But upon my question, she stiffened and glanced fearfully toward the door before whispering, "I… I hurt myself by accident. Daddy, please don’t ask anymore."

Her fear made my heart ache. As such, I didn’t press her, but the unease sat heavy in my chest.

She should’ve been carefree, full of laughter. But instead, she looked like a scared little bird, constantly on edge.

Guilt gnawed at me. I’d been so focused on work that I’d neglected what mattered most — my daughter. Realizing that, I promised myself I’d take some time off and spend it with her. Maybe a trip would help her unwind.

I tried calling my wife to tell her to come home, but she brushed me off.

"I’m busy. I started a new business with a friend. You take care of Zera."

A new business? This was the first I’d heard of it. Then again, I remembered she’d always kept me in the dark about her plans.

Two years ago, she suddenly brought Astrid home, saying the poor girl reminded her of Zera. She claimed she wanted to give Zera a companion, someone to grow up with. I’d been against the idea at first. Sponsoring the girl was one thing, but bringing her into our home was another.

However, my wife wouldn’t budge. We fought about it for days. Yet in the end, I gave in for the sake of our marriage.

But the moment Astrid arrived at our home, she demanded to swap rooms with Zera upon taking a liking to it. She also took Zera’s favorite snacks without asking, acting like she belonged here more than Zera did.

Whenever I voiced my concerns, my wife brushed them off, insisting Astrid was just "straightforward" and "spirited."

At the time, I convinced myself that having another child around would help Zera open up.