Half a month later.
Ethan Sullivan dialed Sophia Sullivan's number.
"Ms. Sullivan, are you free to join us for dinner at the estate tonight?"
Sophia's fingers paused over her keyboard. A soft laugh escaped her lips. "Shouldn't I be the one treating you, Mr. Sullivan?"
After all, he had taken that knife for her.
A brief silence stretched between them.
"It's Emma who wants to see you," Ethan's voice lowered. "She's been asking about you constantly."
Over these past two weeks, his wound had gradually healed, yet an inexplicable restlessness lingered—like a feather lightly brushing against his heart whenever he thought of Sophia.
Sophia closed her laptop and stretched her arms.
"Alright. I'll head over once I finish up here."
She arrived punctually, without giving it much thought.
In the Sullivan living room, a porcelain-skinned little girl knelt beside Ethan's legs, her tiny fingers curiously poking at the bandage wrapped around his wound.
The man's brow furrowed slightly at the contact.
Ian Gallagher stood nearby, his lips curved in a benign smile.
"Emma, you mustn't touch the wound."
His words carried no real admonishment. As long as it wasn't life-threatening, he didn't mind seeing his rival endure some discomfort.
"It's fine." Ethan ruffled Emma's hair gently. "She's being careful."
His indulgence toward his niece knew no bounds. Even when her actions caused him pain, his expression remained tender.
The elderly butler stepped forward with a chuckle and scooped the child into his arms.
"Master Ethan, I'll take Emma to rest now."
Emma twisted in his hold, her wide eyes fixed pleadingly on Ethan.
The reluctance on her small face was unmistakable—a stark contrast to the withdrawn child she had once been, lost in her own world.
Sophia paused in the doorway, momentarily stunned.
In just half a month, the girl's transformation was nothing short of remarkable.
The butler spotted her and beamed.
"Master Ethan, Ms. Sullivan has arrived!"
Sophia's lips curved. "I came for dinner and to check on Emma. Seeing her like this puts my mind at ease."
Ethan gestured for the staff to serve. "We were just waiting for you to begin."
At the dining table, Ian adjusted his glasses.
"Sophia, I apologize for suspending the pottery classes these past weeks. But Emma tends to lose herself in the craft, which isn't conducive to her treatment. Though we might let her try again today."
He understood the importance of balance.
"Now that she's engaging more with the world, her creations might improve. Seeing progress could motivate her further in therapy."
Sophia waved a dismissive hand.
"No need to apologize. Mr. Sullivan's still paying me, so I'm coming out ahead."
She noted how Emma's curiosity about her surroundings had grown.
Though still quiet, the child's eyes now sparkled with life—no longer the exquisite but lifeless doll she'd once been, whose rare mischief had felt rehearsed.
Ethan chuckled. "Of course we wouldn't shortchange you, Ms. Sullivan."
When his gaze landed on Emma, a flicker of regret passed through his eyes.
Though well-concealed, Sophia caught it.
"I can't guarantee Emma will speak," Ian mused, "but if we can address her trauma, there might be a breakthrough."
He chose his next words carefully. "I don't know the exact nature of her trauma, but whatever frightened her so deeply must have been severe. I'd recommend waiting until she's older before attempting intervention. Given the Sullivan family's standing... the truth might be complicated."
He left it at that. Some family secrets weren't meant to be uncovered.
"There have been cases where recreating traumatic scenarios triggered survival instincts and led to recovery."
Yet he was honest about the risks.
"But this method risks retraumatizing the patient. I wouldn't recommend it."
Ethan's response was firm. "I won't put Emma in danger."
His brother's death remained an open wound—one even he hadn't fully come to terms with, let alone his young niece.
His expression softened as he watched the sleeping child.
"If Emma overcomes this when she's older, that would be ideal. If not, the Sullivans will care for her all her life."
Sophia thought to herself—so much for the rumors. This man was nothing if not devoted to those he loved.
After a moment's hesitation, she spoke quietly.
"Do you think Emma would be content remaining a beautiful doll forever, Mr. Sullivan?"