Watching the duo, Ariana felt a mix of shock and amusement. She had never seen the usually stoic Rodney warm up to anyone this quickly.

Then again, Melon had that effect on people, a fact that made Ariana's heart swell.

As the night grew darker, Melon had clearly charmed Rodney. Holding onto Rodney's leg, Melon asked, “Can I have a sleepover in your room?"

Holding back a smile, Ariana responded, "What if you give him those famous flying kicks of yours when you're asleep?"

She was well-aware of Melon's energetic sleep routine.

But Rodney simply shrugged it off.

“Let him. A little company wouldn't hurt."

Seeing the bond, Ariana just nodded. With a happy Melon in tow, Rodney headed upstairs.

Up in the vast bedroom on the third floor, Melon, wearing his pajamas, snuggled in a cozy chair. Rodney, next to him, tried reading from a storybook, but the print gave his eyes trouble.

Spotting this, Melon said, "How about I read it to you?"

Melon, holding onto his beloved book, spun a vivid tale, adding his own twist with hilarious voices for each character. He got on his feet for the thrilling bits, making Rodney chuckle.

As Melon animatedly narrated, Rodney's thoughts drifted to memories of his own son Amiri when he was young.

That old, deep ache in his heart resurfaced; a pain he never quite got over.

Once Melon's eyelids became heavy and sleep took over, Rodney made sure he was tucked in tight. He then moved to the neighboring sitting room, looking through dusty photo albums. Flipping through, he found a picture of his son, so young, so alive. Tears welled up as he whispered, “Oh, Amiri. Today, I met a boy who's a spitting image of you."

One photo showed a Little boy, eerily similar to Melon.

Right then, Judy walked in, holding a sweater for Rodney. Catching the wetness in his eyes, she approached. Rodney pointed to the picture.

"Doesn't Melon look just like my Amiri?"

Looking closely, Judy nodded, a shiver running down her spine.

"There's a strong likeness. I guess there's something universal about beautiful children."

They kept flipping pages, immersing in memories.