The Substitute's Contract: Seven Days to Reset My Life

Chapter 21

"Dad, look at this!" Emily Smith bounced over with an elegant gift box, her little face brimming with excitement.

Ethan Smith took the box, and as his fingers brushed the lid, the automated voice in his mind chimed: [Recommend accepting this gift.] His brow lifted slightly, and he swallowed the refusal on his tongue.

"Thank you," he said flatly.

Grace Sullivan and Luna Smith exchanged glances, surprise flickering in their eyes. For the first time in months, Ethan hadn’t outright rejected them.

"We should go," Grace suddenly interjected, her voice icy. She stood at the staircase, fingers tapping restlessly against the railing.

After seeing the two out, Ethan carelessly tossed the gift box onto the coffee table. The metallic lid clinked sharply against the glass surface.

"Explain," he demanded, crossing his arms as his gaze shifted between his wife and daughter. "What are you two hiding from me?"

Their hostility toward the mother and daughter had been too obvious. Grace gave Emily a meaningful look, and the two burst into laughter.

Bang! Ethan slammed his palm on the table. "Is this funny?"

"Don’t be mad, Dad!" Emily scrambled onto the couch, patting his back with her small hands. Grace handed him a glass of water, murmuring, "We had a dream..."

In that long, vivid dream, they had witnessed Ethan’s struggles over the past year—his desperate prayers outside the operating room, the bloodstains on the steps of St. Martin's Abbey, and the sudden appearance of that mysterious companion program.

"You did all of this... for us," Grace’s voice cracked. She had seen her husband bowing his head in another world, humiliated as a mere stand-in.

But what shattered them most was the moment, on the eve of his freedom, Ethan was handed over to that monster—Alexander Huxley.

"I’m sorry." Grace pulled him into a tight embrace. "We woke up too late."

Ethan’s composure shattered. He buried his face in his wife’s shoulder, trembling like a wronged child. "Why... why did it take you so long...?"

Emily wedged herself between them, clumsily wiping her father’s tears. "Don’t cry, Dad! Mom and I will protect you!"

Outside, Sophia Sinclair and Luna’s figures had long vanished. And on the coffee table, the gift box gleamed coldly under the sunlight.