Satan also bowed respectfully. Emily spoke up, “You’re still recovering.” “I should have visited him sooner,” Satan replied, his voice soft with regret. “I didn’t take good care of your father when he passed. I’m sorry.” William’s grave was meticulously clean, likely thanks to Bert visiting earlier. Family—mentioning them always softened Emily’s heart, no matter the situation. “Emily, let’s go. It’s getting cold,” Satan gently urged. Following his lead, Emily stood and placed the chrysanthemums on William’s grave. “William, if you need anything in heaven, don’t hesitate to come to me in my dreams. I won’t mind.” The photo of the young William on the headstone showed him smiling brightly. They spent the whole day at William’s grave, only deciding to head back to the hospital as dusk settled in. While driving, Satan coughed lightly, trying to stifle the sound. Emily noticed immediately. “You okay? Your throat sounds hoarse,” she asked with concern. “I’m fine,” Satan replied calmly. “But your voice is raspy. You shouldn’t have come with me today. The cold air outside must’ve made it worse,” she said, worry evident in her tone. Satan gave her a reassuring smile, but Emily shook her head, smiling wryly. “We’re both so stubborn. I don’t know how we managed to live together without constantly arguing.” “When you love someone, being considerate becomes second nature. Stubbornness is just a trait, but making compromises—that’s love. We always made room for each other, which is why we worked so well together.” Emily raised her eyebrows. “You seem to be in a particularly nostalgic mood today.” “Isn’t that true for you too?” Satan replied. His question caught Emily off guard for a moment. Satan chuckled. “The past was filled with so much happiness, it’s hard not to revisit it. Reliving those memories gives me the strength to keep going.”“You’ve been reflecting a lot today,” Emily remarked with a small smile. “Maybe it’s because spending time at the cemetery makes you think more deeply about life,” Satan mused. Emily asked hesitantly, “The past three years… they must have been hard for you too, right?” “They were okay,” Satan said, his voice calm. “I was bedridden for over two years. Honestly, Dylan had it worse than I did—he took care of everything while I was basically useless.” Hearing him downplay his worth pained Emily. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that.” “I’m not being harsh on myself. Even when I was abandoned in a fire at five years old, I never felt worthless. I always knew I had the capability to reclaim the Reed family; it was just a matter of time. No one could stop me. But three years ago, for the first time, I realized that there are things in this world beyond my control. I was powerless. I couldn’t even protect my wife or my child. How am I any different from a failure?” Emily’s expression didn’t change, but she stared straight ahead, her voice calm. “You once told me you were afraid of fire, but you still ran into the flames to save me.” “Fear doesn’t cancel out the instinct to protect,” Satan said firmly. “Really?” “Absolutely,” he responded, his tone resolute. “I’ll prove it to you.” Suddenly, the phone rang, interrupting the moment. “Is that Jackson?” Satan asked. “No, it’s the hospital,” Emily replied, her voice tense. … By the time they hurried back to the hospital, an hour had passed. Emily urged Satan to return to his room for a check-up while she rushed to the emergency room. Bert sat there, reeking of smoke. A nurse was cleaning up the burn on his arm. “Emily… Ah, I mean Miranda,” Bert greeted her with a sheepish grin. Seeing Bert’s state, Emily was alarmed. “Bert, what happened? How did the house catch fire?” Bert looked confused. “I have no idea. It was completely random.” “What were you using to heat the house?” Emily asked.“Electric heaters. I just turn them on, and the place warms up nicely.” “You’re not using coal stoves, right?” Bert shook his head quickly. “No way. I’ve been getting heating subsidies, so electric heaters are much cleaner and warmer.” Emily frowned. If Bert wasn’t using coal stoves, then how did the fire start? “Bert, did the electrical system in the house trip or anything?” Bert sighed. “There’s just me in the house. I don’t use enough electricity to cause any issues. I think some kid must’ve been playing with fireworks nearby. The weather’s been dry—it probably sparked something.” That seemed plausible. Bert lived in a rundown part of town where local stores often illegally sold fireworks to kids. There had already been a few incidents involving fireworks causing injuries. Emily took a damp cloth and wiped Bert’s face. His arm had been cleaned by the nurse, showing a red burn, but it didn’t seem too severe. “Bert, are you hurt anywhere else?” “Nah, I’m fine. The house is so old. The wood beams are rotting, and when the fire started, they started falling down. One almost hit me in the head, but I blocked it with my arm, and that’s how I got burned.” After getting the full story and confirming Bert’s injuries weren’t too serious, Emily finally breathed a sigh of relief. The mention of fire had her on edge since the Hilton fire three years ago. “Emily, don’t worry. I’m still young and strong. This little injury is nothing.” Emily nodded. “But what about the house?” “That place is ancient. My father bought it ages ago. It’s probably beyond repair now,” Bert chuckled. “No worries, though. I’ll find a security job after the new year. Those jobs come with food and lodging.” Emily felt a deep sadness welling up inside. “You don’t need to work as a security guard. Come work for me. You can live with me.” “No way. I can’t live abroad. I’d just be in your way.” “Then I won’t go back abroad,” Emily said, her voice firm. Bert’s eyes lit up in surprise. “Really? Did your company decide to let you work here because you’re from New York?” Emily nodded. “Yes… My boss is really understanding and wants me to stay in New York to take care of my family.” “Wow, your boss sounds amazing! You should definitely get him a Christmas gift!”