Late at night, the rain was coming down hard.

“Screech—” Tires screeched against the wet road.

“Warren, what the hell just happened?” Damon Fisher jerked awake, his tone full of irritation.

“Sorry, Mr. Fisher,” Warren apologized quickly. “But I think there’s someone up ahead!”

Who would be wandering around this gated villa area in the middle of the night?

Damon gave Warren a nod, and the driver promptly stepped out to check.

“Mr. Fisher, it’s a little girl. Looks around four or five. Seems like she’s hurt and passed out!” Warren called from the window after hurrying back.

Damon peered out into the relentless rain. After a moment of thought, he made a decision. “Take her to the hospital.”

“Got it!”

At the hospital, the doctor ran a thorough exam on the girl.

“Mr. Fisher, she doesn’t seem to be physically hurt. Looks like she blacked out from sheer fright,” the doctor explained.

“Well then, just—” Damon was about to suggest keeping her in the hospital when he felt a tug on his suit jacket.

“Papa…”

A soft, fragile whisper cut through the silence like a knife. Just that one word had Damon stunned.

He wasn’t new to being called “dad.” Frankly, he’d come to dread it, what with five impossible sons of his own.

Looking down, he saw the girl still lying unconscious on the bed.

Her eyes stayed shut, clearly still out cold—“Papa” was just something she’d mumbled in her sleep.

Her long lashes gave a tiny flutter, delicate like the petals of a tiny bloom.

Damon stiffened.

He was sure he didn’t know this kid, and yet… she looked oddly familiar.

She reminded him of someone—someone who had once meant a lot to him.

Without a second thought, he made up his mind.

“Come on, we’re going home.”

He wrapped the girl snugly in his suit jacket and carried her out of the hospital.

Morning in the Fisher household.

“What’s all that noise?! So annoying!” Beresford Fisher sat up in bed whining.

As the second son in the family, he had school today—but three days in class, two days ditching had become his lifestyle, and today was obviously a ditch day.

He’d been hoping to sleep in, but the noise out in the hallway had other plans.

Grumbling, Beresford stormed out of his room and instantly froze in disbelief.

Right across from his bedroom—the second largest room in the house, only smaller than Damon Fisher’s master suite—had its door wide open.

“Hey hey hey! Who gave you permission to go in there?! Didn’t I say that room’s off-limits?” Beresford stomped over in slippers, full of outrage.

“I did.”

That deep, too-familiar voice hit him like a thunderbolt, and he froze mid-step.

“Dad…? You’re back? Weren’t you on a trip?” Beresford’s eyes darted nervously.

“I can’t come back early now?” Damon wasn’t amused. He shot Beresford a sharp look. “And you? Why aren’t you at school again?”

“I, uh… well…” Beresford fumbled for an excuse, slowly inching backward.

Years of getting his butt kicked had taught him: never let Damon get too close when he’s got that tone.

But just as he moved, he tripped and flopped right onto the bed.

“Ah—!”

“Wah—!”

Two voices rang out at once. Beresford cut himself off fast, lips clenched.

Wait a sec… that second voice… whose was that?

Beresford turned his head slowly—only to see a fuzzy little head pop out from under the covers, staring at him."Aaaahhh—!" A scream even more dramatic than before pierced the air as Beresford Fisher shot up from bed like a spring. "What the heck!? Wait, who... who is this!?"

Stephanie Fisher barely frowned, but in this tiny five-year-old body, even the smallest expression made her look downright pitiful.

She was thirteen—supposed to be flying to the U.S. for a conference. Who would've thought she'd get caught up in a plane crash and wake up like this?

In just one night, she’d absorbed all the original kid's memories. The problem? This family didn’t show up in any of them.

Her gut told her to play it safe—absolutely no spilling the beans on who she really was.

So, she scooted back a little and put on a scared little face.

That did it. Damon Fisher saw her reaction and felt a sudden stab of pain in his chest.

She looked just like... someone etched into his heart.

He grabbed Beresford by the collar and yanked him up off the bed. "Beresford, what's with the screaming?!"

Then, on a dime, his expression softened into a gentle smile as he turned to Steph.

"Sweetie, you're awake? Can you tell Uncle your name?"

Even Beresford was unsettled by how his dad looked right now—this warm, friendly version of the father he'd known for fourteen years was just... weird.

Stephanie peeked up at Damon, hesitated for a moment, and said softly, "Stephanie."

"Stephanie? What a lovely name." Damon looked at her cute little face and couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Meanwhile, Beresford looked like he was about to gag. Was this really his super strict, always-intimidating dad?

"Lovely? Seriously? Sounds so lame!" Beresford rolled his eyes and flopped down at the edge of the bed. "Hey, kid, where're you from? Do you know your street? Got a number for your parents? We should really get you home—"

Before he could finish, Damon reached over, snatched him up again without warning.

"Shut up already! You're gonna scare her!" he snapped.

Beresford almost hit the wall and shot his dad a sulky glare.

Yeah right, like his yelling just now wasn’t way louder than mine.

Damon turned back and gave Stephanie a warm, harmless smile. "Stephanie, how come you were outside so late all by yourself? It’s lucky I found you, or something bad could’ve happened! Do you know where your parents are?"

Stephanie stared blankly at him like she didn’t understand a word. Damon tried asking again, but this time she just burst out crying.

“Waaah! I want my daddy!”

That one line completely shattered Damon inside.

"Oh sweetie, don't cry, don't cry." He held her close, patting her back awkwardly but gently. "It’s okay, Uncle will help you find your daddy, I promise."

It took a good while of cuddling and comforting before she finally stopped sobbing.

Beresford stood off to the side, stunned. What was this sorcery? How did this kid magically turn his tough-as-nails dad into a literal softie?

Once Stephanie calmed down, Damon checked his watch.

"Stephanie, Uncle has to go to work now—I've got something really important today." He frowned at the thought of his packed schedule.

“You stay home and rest, alright? If anything comes up, just push this button and Ms. Pengelley will come help you.” Damon bent down to explain carefully. Then, glancing over his shoulder, he shouted, "Beresford, since you’re ditching school today anyway, you’re staying home to look after Stephanie!"