He sat still.

His body was rigid, but in his heart, Mark's warm presence lingered.

He could almost feel Mark beside him, sitting next to the fireplace with him, their laughter filling the room as they played with blocks and shared tales.

Yet, despite the illusion of Mark's company, a palpable emptiness pervaded the hall.

Cecilia observed her son from a distance and was well aware of the weight of his thoughts.

The urge to join him tugged at her heartstrings.

But Waylen gently touched the back of her hand and whispered, “Let me handle it."

Cecilia nodded, her eyes tinged with redness.

Waylen said gently, “It's New Year's Eve, and you're about to give birth. Don't cry; it's ominous, okay?"

Waylen asked Rena to keep Cecilia company.

Then he walked to the door and saw Edwin gazing at the snow outside, stiffly holding his small form in his arms.

In a daze, Edwin thought he had caught a glimpse of Mark.

Waylen sat beside Edwin.

Waylen enfolded him in his arms to shield him from the cold. Then he lowered his head and asked gently, “Are you missing your dad?"

Edwin remained silent.

Mark's departure had deeply traumatized Edwin. He had always been an introverted child, and now he had retreated even further into his shell.

After a long pause, Edwin finally spoke up.

“I heard that he took Laura with him."

Waylen gently ran his fingers through the boy's hair, his touch soft and reassuring.

He chose not to reveal the painful truth: that Laura had been mistreated by the servants in the villa, prompting Mark to take her away to ensure her safety.