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."