Dexter sighed helplessly. "Darling, must we argue on New Year's?"

"You started it!"

"Alright, alright. My fault." He tugged at Myra's hand. "How about this? Next month, I'll accompany you to the sanatorium to visit Kayla. Does that sound better?"

"That's better!" Her expression softened, and she grudgingly agreed.

Dexter picked up his cup and smiled. "Great! Now we can eat. Come on, let's have a drink. Cheers!"

Just as they were about to clink glasses, a commotion erupted outside, accompanied by the bodyguards' shouting. "Who's out there? Come out!"

Dexter and Myra exchanged glances, putting down their forks. "What's going on? What's all the noise?"

A bodyguard rushed in, reporting, "Mr. and Mrs. Russell, we apprehended someone trying to sneak into the villa during the shift change."

"Who would be so bold?" Dexter frowned, irritated.

The bodyguard explained, "The person's face was covered. We're questioning them, but they won't speak."

Dexter ordered coldly, "Bring her in!"

"Yes, Mr. Fuller!"

The bodyguard returned a while later, looking embarrassed. "Mr. Russell, the woman is clinging to the door. She refuses to come in!" Dexter and Myra exchanged a glance, sighing in exasperation.

Myra, already in a bad mood, slammed the table and stood. "I'll go see for myself!"

Dexter followed. Only Sebastian remained seated, browsing the news on his phone.

They stormed outside and saw the intruder clinging desperately to the door frame. Her hair was messy, her head down, her face hidden. The bodyguards tugged, but she wouldn't let go, her hands reddening and purple from the strain.

Myra felt a sense of familiarity. "Kayla?" she called out, her voice trembling.

The intruder froze, then slowly lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. "Mom..."

Myra gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Kayla stood before them, so thin she seemed frail. Her clothes were torn and dirty; she wore no shoes, her bare feet a deep purple from the cold. She shivered violently.

"My daughter!" Myra's heart ached. She rushed forward, gathering Kayla into her arms, trying to warm her.

But Kayla stubbornly refused to go inside.

Myra asked, her heart heavy, "Why don't you want to come in? You're home."

"I'm too ashamed," Kayla whispered, choking back sobs. "I snuck out of the sanatorium. I just wanted to see you both. I missed you so much, Mom..."

Both Myra and Dexter were deeply moved. Their precious jewel, once spoiled and cherished, now looked like a beggar—hair a mess, clothes ragged, feet bare and frozen, trembling uncontrollably. Even her usual confidence and boldness were gone, replaced by timidity and fear.

Myra's heart ached for her daughter, the child she had loved for eighteen years.

At that moment, Dexter couldn't bring himself to weigh the pros and cons. He sighed. "Let's go home. Let's eat."