In the taxi, Delya was still crying in Elena's lap. Her small hands clutched the hem of her mother’s dress tightly, her face filled with confusion.

“Mommy... I want Daddy...” Delya whimpered softly, her voice trembling.

Elena took a deep breath, her hands gently stroking the hair of her youngest daughter. “Sweetie, Daddy is busy.”

“But why did Daddy say he’s not our father?” Olivia, sitting beside Elena, lowered her head, her eyes blurry. “Are we not his children anymore?”

Katty interrupted, her voice more angry than sad. “Daddy is mean! Why is Daddy so cruel to us? He even pushed Delya!”

Delya cried again, her little face pressed against...