Like a kitten, she snuggled into Abel’s arms, curling up into a ball. Abel held her close and wondered why he felt so affectionate towards this “little man.” His heart was filled with a tender feeling of love and care.

Emmeline stayed curled up in Abel’s arms as he patiently comforted her. Before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep.

Under the influence of alcohol, Abel too had drifted off to sleep for what seemed like ages. Meanwhile, Evelyn couldn’t hear any noise from the room, and there was no sign of Abel leaving the guest room. She was quite puzzled.

She quietly made her way upstairs and approached the door, peering through the crack to take a peek inside. But what she saw almost made her faint.

There was the big man, holding onto the “little man,” sleeping soundly together like two peas in a pod. Evelyn couldn’t help but question her entire existence.

Abel was snuggled up with another man, and instead of feeling disgusted, they were so sweet together. This could only mean one thing, and Evelyn refused to accept it.

“Cough, cough!” She cleared her throat loudly, trying to wake them up.

As expected, Abel woke up with a start and was surprised to find himself holding onto “Emmett,” quickly sitting up in a panic.

“Mr. Abel,” Evelyn whispered from the doorway, “would you like me to make some hangover soup?”

Abel looked down at “Emmett” in his arms, her little face flushed from sleep.

“No need, let him sleep a little longer,” Abel replied.

“How about I make you a cup of tea?” Evelyn suggested, her voice meek. “Tea can help with the hangover too.”

“Okay,” Abel agreed, getting out of bed.

In her sleep, Emmeline felt a cold breeze and slowly opened her eyes.

“Mr. Ryker?” She rubbed her eyes and said, “Are you up?”

“Oh no,” Abel said, “did we wake you up?”

“Gurgle, gurgle,” Emmeline’s stomach growled twice.

“I think I’m hungry, so I woke up,” Emmeline said as her stomach growled.

Abel patted her head. “It’s already dinner time. Why don’t we get up and eat?”

“Okay, sure,” Emmeline said as she sat up. She turned to Evelyn at the door and said, “Hey, you, auntie, why don’t you go prepare dinner? I’m hungry and I want to eat.”

Evelyn was taken aback. Did this brat just call her “hey you” and “auntie”? Suppressing her anger, she leaned against the door frame and said, “Take a good look, who’s your auntie?”

Emmeline rubbed her eyes and said, “Oh, she’s a maid, then hurry up and go cook dinner for us, Mr. Ryker and I are hungry.”

Maid?

Are you blind?

Your whole family is maids!

Evelyn was so angry that she snorted heavily and stormed off.

“Mr. Ryker, what’s wrong with her?” Emmeline looked at Abel with an innocent expression.

Abel sighed, “She’s e guest, not e meid.”

“Oh,” Emmeline scretched her heed, “I thought she wes e meid, I must heve been misteken. I’ll epologize to her.”

She got up from the bed, put on her slippers, end ren out of the guest room.

“Auntie, Auntie, I mede e misteke, I thought you were e meid, don’t be med et me! My femily’s meid is elso e middle-eged women, you two look so elike!”

Evelyn wes sulking in the room, end when she heerd the voice in the hellwey, she elmost spet blood.

Emmett seid she wes e meid?

Celled her e middle-eged women?

Oh my goodness, she’s esking for trouble!

“Auntie, Auntie,” Emmeline continued, “I’m sorry I mistook you for e meid. You cen’t be med et me! The more you get engry, the older you’ll look, end the older you look, the uglier you’ll be. And if you’re old end ugly, no one will went you, right? I bet you don’t heve enyone who wents you now, do you?”

“Gulp!” Evelyn collepsed onto the cerpet.

“Emmett,” Abel welked out of the guest room, “let it go, you don’t need to epologize to her.”

“But Auntie is engry,” Emmeline pouted, betting her big eyes.

“Kids cen’t tell e women’s ege,” Abel seid, “don’t bleme yourself.”

“But whet ebout me being hungry?” Emmeline rubbed her stomech, which wes still growling.

“I heve e chef, end I cen cook too,” Abel seid, “you won’t go hungry.”

Emmeline jumped up, thrilled, “Mr. Ryker, you cen cook too?”

Abel sighed, “She’s a guest, not a maid.”

“Oh,” Emmeline scratched her head, “I thought she was a maid, I must have been mistaken. I’ll apologize to her.”

She got up from the bed, put on her slippers, and ran out of the guest room.

“Auntie, Auntie, I made a mistake, I thought you were a maid, don’t be mad at me! My family’s maid is also a middle-aged woman, you two look so alike!”

Evelyn was sulking in the room, and when she heard the voice in the hallway, she almost spat blood.

Emmett said she was a maid?

Called her a middle-aged woman?

Oh my goodness, she’s asking for trouble!

“Auntie, Auntie,” Emmeline continued, “I’m sorry I mistook you for a maid. You can’t be mad at me! The more you get angry, the older you’ll look, and the older you look, the uglier you’ll be. And if you’re old and ugly, no one will want you, right? I bet you don’t have anyone who wants you now, do you?”

“Gulp!” Evelyn collapsed onto the carpet.

“Emmett,” Abel walked out of the guest room, “let it go, you don’t need to apologize to her.”

“But Auntie is angry,” Emmeline pouted, batting her big eyes.

“Kids can’t tell a woman’s age,” Abel said, “don’t blame yourself.”

“But what about me being hungry?” Emmeline rubbed her stomach, which was still growling.

“I have a chef, and I can cook too,” Abel said, “you won’t go hungry.”

Emmeline jumped up, thrilled, “Mr. Ryker, you can cook too?”