?Chapter 397:


    Ethel blinked, stunned. Her eyes widened with disbelief.


    She stammered, “You—you…”


    “Hmm?” Freya remained gentle.


    “You just said… Dad?” Ethel stammered. Ever since their fallout two years ago, Freya had refused to utter that word once in reference to Hugh.


    Yet now, she had.


    It felt almost unreal.


    Freya’s world had fallen apart, and somehow, through the wreckage, she hade to see things more clearly.


    She had grown—shed the need to draw strength from old ideas of family.


    Reaching out, she gently ran her fingers through Ethel’s still-damp hair. Her touch was soft, reassuring. “Yes. He’s my dad.”


    “Can you tell me why you were so upset with him before?” Ethel asked cautiously. “Now that things seem better?”


    “I didn’t understand everything back then,” Freya said. “Now I see—some situations aren’t about right or wrong.”


    She had no desire to untangle the past any longer, nor did she feel it was her burden to carry.


    From where she stood, Hugh moving on so soon after her mother’s passing had felt like a betrayal—like he’d traded love for convenience. But now, she saw another side. Two people denied their first loves, cornered by tradition. Surely, regret weighed heavily on them both.


    Ethel scratched her head, visibly confused.


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    She didn’t push further but asked the one thing on her mind, “What did you mean earlier when you said Dad should marry Ms. Newman if he wants to? Does that mean you’re okay with her now?” That didn’t sound like the sister she knew.


    “I haven’t epted her,” Freya rified, her usual calm returning. “But I’ve stopped trying to dictate Dad’s happiness.”


    Over two decades ago, Hugh had no control over his own marriage. Now, even if Cheryl wasn’t someone Freya liked, she wanted her father to choose for himself this time.


    “You’re saying things I can’t wrap my head around. You two must’ve talked about something serious behind my back.” Ethel pouted and stepped into the room uninvited. “To protest this betrayal, I’ve decided—I’m sleeping on your bed tonight.”


    Freya sighed.


    What a child!


    “I’m iming your bed, your nket,” Ethel announced, flopping onto the mattress like a small whirlwind of joy, “and I shall jokinglypete with Charlie for your love.”


    Freya moved her stuffed pillow to the sofa before sliding under the covers beside her.


    Once the lights were off, Ethel curled close to her, resting her head against Freya’s arm, murmuring, “Mina…”


    “Hmm?” Freya turned slightly toward her.


    “You’ve still got me,” Ethel whispered, her breath warm, her words sweet as she drifted off. “I will always stand by you.”


    “Sleep well,” Freya said softly, tucking the nket around her little sister.


    Both of them had grown—no longer children clinging to the past. It was time to live their own lives, to stop trying to steer their father’s. So long as it didn’t concern the Briggs Group, Freya would no longer interfere.


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