Half a month later, Sophia Sullivan stepped through the gates of the Sullivan estate once more.
This visit wasn't just to see Emma Sullivan—she had something far more important to discuss with Ethan Sullivan.
"Miss Sullivan, you've finally arrived."
The elderly butler, Charles Watson, greeted her warmly, guiding her inside with practiced ease.
"Master Ethan and little Emma have been asking about you every day. Especially the master—he's grown quite fond of that perfume you gave him..."
"Charles, that perfume helps with his headaches," Sophia replied with a faint smile. "How is Emma doing?"
"Ah yes, your perfume works wonders."
The butler's smile widened.
"Emma's recovering well. She can speak a few words now—slowly, but it's remarkable progress."
He pushed open the doors to the main hall as he spoke.
"If you hadn't intervened that day, both the master and Emma might not have made it."
Though he hadn't witnessed the incident himself, the reports painted a grim picture.
One misstep could have been catastrophic.
"I was just lucky," Sophia demurred, ever humble.
Inside the hall, Ian Gallagher knelt beside Emma, carefully administering medicine.
His golden hair caught the light, and his white lab coat accentuated his tall frame.
The wire-rimmed glasses lent him an air of scholarly refinement.
The moment he spotted Sophia, his icy demeanor melted into a radiant smile.
"Sophia! You're here at last!"
Ian waved enthusiastically.
Today, he looked particularly striking—the lab coat outlining broad shoulders and a narrow waist, every inch the aristocratic gentleman.
"Emma's been begging to see you."
Sophia's gaze shifted past him.
A little girl with wide, grape-like eyes wobbled forward before launching herself at Sophia.
"Sis... sister..."
No longer withdrawn as before, Emma could now interact normally.
The kidnapping had become an unexpected turning point.
The gunfire had dredged up buried terror—but also awakened her survival instincts.
She'd not only bitten her captor but had begun attempting speech.
Though still halting, it was a vast improvement.
"You're doing so well, Emma."
Sophia bent to lift her into her arms.
The child burst into sudden, wrenching sobs, as if releasing years of pent-up sorrow.
The cries gradually subsided into hiccups, tiny hands clinging desperately to Sophia's neck.
"I'm right here."
Sophia patted her back gently.
That harrowing ordeal had somehow broken through Emma's emotional barriers.
Her greatest fear, perhaps, was losing her brother Ethan.
Emma buried her face against Sophia's shoulder, eyes red-rimmed.
"I... I..."
She struggled to continue, the words sticking after years of silence.
Instinctively, she clung tighter to this woman who radiated safety.
"You're already so brave."
Sophia's voice remained steady, infused with quiet strength.
"Take your time. Keep working with the doctors—it'll keep getting better."
"...Okay."
Emma's tiny voice piped up, her grip tightening further.
In her child's mind, she feared Sophia might vanish like her father had.
As Sophia soothed the girl, she glanced at Ian. "Ethan isn't here?"
A faint crease formed between her brows.
For two weeks, she'd been investigating the kidnapping's mastermind—all trails led to one of the Sullivan family's illegitimate heirs.
"Emma wanted her clay doll. Ethan went to the storage rooms to find it." Ian's tone held a hint of jealousy, though his manners remained impeccable. "He should be back soon."
Discreet as ever, he didn't press for details.
Sophia nodded. "I'll wait then."
Before the words fully left her lips, the doors slammed open with a crash.
"Bang—"
Charles's frantic voice followed. "You can't just barge in without an appointment!"
Zachary Sullivan's冷笑 sliced through the air.
"Since when do outsiders dictate terms in the Sullivan household?"
His voice dripped with scorn. "Mother and I came specially to visit Ethan and Emma. Even Father approved—who are you to object?"