She raised her head, her eyes searching his face.

“Waylen, are you mad at me? I won't meet him alone again," she said earnestly.

Waylen replied, his voice hoarse, "Silly girl!"

How could he be angry with her?

He was simply consumed by worry, imagining how heartbroken she would be upon learning about Mark's serious illness.

Yes, even though their relationship seemed to have reached an impasse, Waylen had never doubted her love for Mark.

By destiny, Rena and Mark could really be the death of the Fowlers siblings.

Waylen had never been one to hesitate.

However, this matter had left him in constant turmoil, unable to reach a decision.

During the quiet hours of the night, Waylen smoked in his study.

Suddenly, the closed door creaked open, allowing a sliver of light to filter in from outside.

He assumed it was Rena.

To his surprise, it was a small figure with a head of brown, curly hair.

Waylen extinguished the cigarette and patted his thigh gently.

"You have trouble falling asleep? Do you want Daddy to hold you?" he asked in a soft, soothing voice.

Wrapped in her white comfort blanket, Alexis hurried barefoot into Waylen's embrace. She whispered, "Mommy is feeding Elva. Marcus is hungry, too!"

Waylen understood her the best.

He affectionately rubbed her nose and teased, “Are you feeling hungry for Mommy's milk too?"

Alexis was in high spirits; she lifted her head and proudly declared, “I am not! I'm a big girl now! I'm already seven years old!"

Waylen gently touched her hair.