Miranda had completely forgotten that part of her memory. All she remembered was Lionel telling her to walk Paul out, and she did… Then what? Nothing. That was all. When she woke up again, it was the next morning. She stretched comfortably in bed, not feeling anything unusual at all. Mindy came in, handing her a glass of warm water. “Are you awake?” Miranda sat up, took the glass, and had a sip when she heard Lionel’s voice. “Let’s see if you dare to sneak that much alcohol again! You went on a drunken rampage, didn’t listen to a word anyone said, and even acted like a complete lunatic.” Drunken rampage? A lunatic? Miranda’s hand froze mid-drink. Fragmented memories flickered in her mind, but she couldn’t grasp anything clearly. She swallowed nervously, her tone cautious as she asked, “Dad, what… what did I do yesterday?” “Ha! What did you do? You don’t remember?” Miranda shook her head frantically. No, she genuinely didn’t. “We asked you to walk Paul out, but you ended up messing up his hair completely. Instead of getting mad, he even carried you back.” “Okay, that’s enough,” Mindy interrupted. “Stop embarrassing her now; her face is turning as red as a tomato! Come on, leave her to process this herself.” With that, she shooed Lionel out and even closed the door behind them. One second. Two seconds. By the third second… A cry of pure embarrassment erupted from the bedroom. “Ahh!” There went her dignity, completely out the window! Lionel and Mindy exchanged glances, unable to hold back their laughter. “Your daughter takes after you,” Mindy said. “She’s terrible with alcohol.” Lionel retorted, “And she’s like you, too—can’t handle her drinks but still loves to try.” Mindy shot him a glare. “Want a spanking?” Lionel quickly waved his hands. “No, no. I wouldn’t dare!”

The family of three enjoyed their days in peace and happiness. In contrast, Evelyn had been having a rough time recently. Ever since Lucy and her son caused that scene at the hotel and realized no one could stop them, they seemed to have developed a taste for it. For several consecutive days, they sat outside the Johnson estate, playing the role of shameless troublemakers to perfection. Evelyn felt a headache coming on every time she saw this mother-son duo; the memory of that disgusting spit still made her feel nauseous. The security had reported that the pair showed up at the gate daily, rain or shine, bringing their own folding stools and food. They were clearly intending to settle in for the long haul. It made her afraid to leave her house! “So, are they still out there?” Evelyn asked through gritted teeth, addressing the housekeeper who had just returned from grocery shopping. The housekeeper’s expression was uneasy. “Y-Yes, they are. When Martha and I went out, that man and woman stared at us intensely, with eyes so fierce it felt like they might attack us any second. We were both scared out of our wits.” Lucy wasn’t stupid. This was a private residence, not like the hotel where she could barge in. If she caused trouble here, she could be charged with trespassing. That wouldn’t be worth it. So, she and Franklin just stayed there, showing up on time every day, not doing anything except sitting and glaring creepily at anyone who walked by. It caused quite a stir, and everyone in the estate was on edge. To avoid them, Evelyn had stayed indoors for an entire week. Every day felt more agonizing—restless, irritable—and she had to endure the housekeepers whispering behind her back. She kept telling herself that those two would eventually leave. After all, it had already been several days, but they still showed no sign of stopping. Evelyn had reached her limit after nearly a week of this. As she thought about the countless photo collages of elegant socialite friends on her feed, she just couldn’t believe she was stuck at home like some kind of prisoner!