After a beat, he added with a quiet sniffle, “I don’t want to be a kid without a mom.”

The words hit Ernest like a blow to the chest.

He met Locke’s hopeful eyes and nodded solemnly. “I’m trying. I can’t live without her either.”

“Alright then.” Locke sniffled again and shut his eyes.

Like most children, he drifted off to sleep almost instantly. Ernest stayed by his side, staring at his soft, cherubic face. His chest tightened.

Elissa had only been gone for two days, and already, Locke missed her terribly. Ernest couldn’t bring himself to say it—but deep down, he feared Elissa might not come back at all.

That evening, Eric returned to Jewel Avenue. He had been living there temporarily, all to be closer to Hadley and make sure she was well taken care of. After all, his heart—and his daughter—were both under that roof.

But when he stepped inside tonight, he didn’t see her. At this hour, the household had already settled in for the night. The servants were resting. Hadley should have been home.

Frowning, he pulled out his phone and called her. It rang, but she didn’t pick up. He figured she might not have heard it.

He tried Tamara next. Luckily, she answered right away. “Mr. Scott, we’re in the garden.”

“Got it.” Eric exhaled in relief. He put the phone down and stepped outside.

The garden hadn’t always been there. He’d commissioned it just days ago, hoping it would lift Hadley’s spirits. It had been finished in a rush, but the result was beautiful.

When he arrived, Tamara was nowhere in sight—she must have stepped away. Four bodyguards stood silently at the garden’s corners.

This was his domain—equipped with a high-security system—so Eric wasn’t worried about intruders.

“Mr. Scott,” the bodyguards greeted him as he passed.

He gave a brief nod. “Is Hadley inside?”

“Yes, sir. She’s been in there about twenty minutes.”

“Alright.” Eric stepped into the garden, calling out, “Hadley?” He didn’t see her right away.

Moving deeper inside, he called again, quieter this time. “Hadley, I’m back. Where are you?”

No answer.

“Hadley?” His brows pulled together as his pace quickened.

Even though this was his turf, Hadley wasn’t in her best shape lately. She still tired easily; she was fragile. The thought crept in—what if she had another episode and then fainted? What if she’d been startled by one of her hallucinations again?

He knew how tired she was and how quickly she could fall asleep. Some nights, she’d drift off mid-sentence, too weak to fight the exhaustion. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be a problem. But her condition wasn’t normal.

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