Lost in thought, John suddenly heard footsteps. He turned, and his eyes lit up. "Darcy." He stepped forward. "Dad came to see you again." "Stop right there!" Darcy snapped. "You are not my dad! I told you, my dad is gone. Get lost!" "Darcy, I'm right here! Your mother lied to you!" "I said get out, or I'm calling the police!" "Darcy, I really am your dad!" Their raised voices finally alerted someone inside. With a creak, the door opened. Ione stepped out. After more than twenty years, she didn't immediately recognize the man. It took her a long moment. "Darcy, come here," Ione said, waving her daughter over and shielding her behind her.She turned a wary, cold gaze on her ex-husband. "What are you doing here?" John was indignant. "I came to see my daughter! What have you been teaching her all these years? Filling her head with nonsense, making her think I'm dead! You're going too far!" I'm going too far? What a joke! Ione's chest heaved with anger. "Did you pay a single dollar in child support all these years? You were as good as dead!" "You—" John choked, but he hadn't been idle all these years. He knew arguing about the past was a losing battle. So he switched tactics, invoking the law. "Darcy is my daughter. I have a legal right to see her. And when I'm old, she has an obligation to support me." His shameless words made Ione's chest ache. "You didn't raise her, so you have no right to demand support from her!" She felt dizzy, swaying slightly.Darcy quickly steadied her mother and glared coldly at John. "You're not welcome here. Get lost!" With that, she slammed the door shut with a heavy thud. Inside, Darcy helped her mother sit on the sofa, then went to the kitchen for a glass of water. "Mom, take one of your heart pills." Half an hour later, Ione felt better. She looked at her daughter, tears streaming down her face. "I never thought he'd have the nerve to come looking for you! Back then, he was the one who said he wanted a divorce, to leave with nothing, and never come looking for us again." Darcy held her mother's hand. "Mom, don't worry. I've grown up now. I won't be fooled by his sweet talk. I'll always be on your side." Ione felt a wave of comfort. At least I still have my daughter. She wiped her tears, then frowned. "John only shows up when there's something in it for him. He must have gotten nothing from that woman and is now turning to you. Be careful. Don't let him find out where you work. I'm afraid he might cause trouble for you there." "I'll be careful, Mom. Don't worry." That night was Christmas Eve. The city was ablaze with lights, alive with celebration. Darcy was watching the holiday special on TV with her mother when her phone buzzed with a string of greetings. One was from Hugo. She replied to each one. Then, after a moment's thought, she sent a greeting to Jethro. Sometimes, managing up was necessary. To her surprise, Jethro replied immediately with a money transfer. Whoa, what a boss move! A money transfer for a text? Given how wealthy he was, this money transfer had got to be... Excited, she rubbed her hands together and tapped it open—7.77 dollars. She was momentarily surprised. That was... generous? Wait, was that... reasonable? He was a wealthy heir! Just as Darcy was caught between laughter and disbelief, another message from him popped up, "Wishing you and your mother good health and all the best. Hope you get the university acceptance you're waiting for soon." 7.77... So that's it! Three sevens, a symbol of good luck. Darcy felt a thrill of delight. Of course, the boss is unique even in his well-wishes! "Thank you, boss. Wishing your family health and happiness too." In a hospital corridor— "Who are you chatting with, dear? You've seemed unusually happy these past few days." Clara Blackwood walked over, looking warmly at her son.Jethro put away his phone. "It's nothing. How's Grandpa?" "The doctor said he's fine. Should wake up soon. Did you reach Cindy?" "Yes. She'll be back tomorrow morning." "Good. Keep an eye on things here. I need to call the Knights. We promised to have Christmas Eve dinner together, but canceling because of your grandfather's illness... I feel bad." "Alright." Shortly after Clara left, the doctor came out of the private room. "Mr. Blackwood, your grandpa is conscious now. You can see him." Jethro stepped into the room and leaned over the elderly man in the bed. "Grandpa, how are you feeling?" Arthur Blackwood smiled kindly, "Nothing serious. Old age." Remembering it was Christmas Eve, Arthur sighed, "Sorry to trouble you all. Because of me, you couldn't even have a proper family dinner tonight." Jethro pulled up a chair and sat down. "Grandpa, family dinner can happen anytime. We'll have another one when you get out of the hospital."