Roxanne left the room, whispering to the children, "I'm still treating a patient. I'll be back much later. Go play with Aunt Madilyn first." The children, accustomed to her late returns, readily agreed.

Meanwhile, inside the room, Lucian's expression was glacial. Rage simmered within him. Estella's attempt to reach Roxanne's hand and the "Mommy" he'd overheard on the phone echoed in his mind. No wonder she'd been so cold toward Estella. She'd remarried and had other children! That's why she'd abandoned Estella.

He stared at his daughter, still standing where she was. Despite her obvious disappointment, she gazed at the door, waiting for Roxanne's return. Watching her broke his heart. So what if she's back? he thought. She still doesn't want to care for her child!

His face terrifyingly dark, he approached Estella and scooped her into his arms. She looked at him with confusion, tugging at his collar to indicate her reluctance. He ignored her, coldly announcing, "It's late. I'm taking Essie home. If Old Mr. Queen wakes up, call me. I'll stop by another day."

Before Jonathan could respond, he left with Estella.

Roxanne, having just ended her call, was about to return when she saw Lucian leaving, his expression impassive. Her heart clenched, but before she could react, he walked past without a glance.

His abrupt departure stunned her, but she soon laughed self-deprecatingly. He didn't care about the call at all, she thought. Six years ago, he didn't care about me, and I certainly didn't treat him well when I left. Of course, he doesn't care about me now, or the children. We're strangers to him.

Roxanne knew they lived in different worlds. Reflecting on the emotional turmoil she'd just endured, she felt like a fool.

She stood outside the door for a long time before sighing. After composing herself, she entered the room. Only Jonathan remained. He'd witnessed their interaction.

Their relationship isn't as simple as it seems, he mused. Lucian, especially, is odd. It's the first time I've seen him show so much emotion toward a woman. He was curious about their history but, respecting their privacy, didn't pry. Instead, he began discussing Alfred's condition.

As Lucian carried Estella out of the mansion and into the car, she panicked. Quickly writing a sentence in her notebook, she tugged on his shirt and showed it to him: "I haven't talked to Ms. Jarvis yet. Can we stay a little longer?"

Lucian felt a surge of conflicting emotions, his eyebrows furrowing. Estella, noticing his distress, wrote two more sentences: "What's wrong, Daddy? Why aren't you happy?"

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