By Zephyria He thought he had naturally asked a leading question, but he was completely wrong. Rather, the child returned to reality. Seeing that the prim and haughty expression she had been wearing until now disappeared at once and an unchildlike cynical expression appeared, Winston immediately realized his mistake.
“You said poor kids like me don’t get presents, Mr. Campbell.”
He even allowed her to call him Winnie, but Angela had never called him that. And now Mr. Campbell. Winston’s stomach was boiling and at the same time he wanted to slap himself hard on the cheek. You idiot, you were too hasty.
“You’re not poor anymore, because you’re my daughter.”
He also went back to being Winston Campbell, not a Butler, but even with his elaborately decorated friendly voice, the child did not easily fall for it.
“I’m me. And you’re the rich one, not me.”
Is this child really four years old?
Even if she’s imitating by watching books or dramas, everything from reciting or imitating lines perfectly was never ordinary.
She must be incredibly smart.
Along with the urge to find out the child’s intelligence quotient, an unexpected sense of pride spread. Isn’t it really amazing? Angela’s intelligence makes him so happy. As if she were really his child.
He unknowingly loosened his lips, but soon his reason quickly returned. Now is not the time to just be happy. Ahem, Winston, who cleared his throat, changed his words and asked this time.
“Angie, Santa is really coming this year. Won’t you believe me just once?”
He asked as gently as possible, but the child’s face was full of disbelief. Winston opened his mouth, watching Angela, who simply frowned and looked at him, replacing her answer with an expression.
“I know why Santa hasn’t come to see you until now.”
“…Really?”
Angela still didn’t seem to believe it, but the brief silence was nothing more than showing the child’s agitation. Winston nodded, saying yes.
“The reason Santa hasn’t visited Angie until now is because he’s been busy visiting poorer kids. I thought Angie would understand.”
Winston made up the story using the child’s maturity. As expected, Angela frowned and pondered with a serious expression. Winston deliberately pushed forward without giving the child time to think deeply.
“You’ve been patient all this time, so let’s ask Santa to give you a present this year, too. How about it? Is there anything you want?”
It didn’t take Angela a few seconds to answer, but the silence felt incredibly long to Winston. He quietly suppressed himself, wanting to urge her again. He pushed enough with just this much. Anything more than this becomes coercion. Now, he had no choice but to hope that Angela would believe him.
When he inwardly lamented that his patience was only this much, Angela opened her mouth.
“Santa knows without me telling him.”
“That’s not true.”
Winston carefully continued the conversation, being careful not to snatch the rainbow in front of him.
“Santa needs to be told. Let’s do this, let’s write a letter to Santa. Tell him that Angie has been patient all this time, so please give her what she wants this year.”
He didn’t miss the timing and picked up the suit jacket that was lying roughly on the floor and took out an envelope from his inside pocket. Here, he took out the stationery he had put in the envelope and spread it out together, and the child stared intently at the recipient’s address.
“Is this Santa’s house?”
“No. It’s a place that collects and delivers mail to Santa. If you write a letter here and send it, it will be delivered to Santa.”
It wasn’t entirely wrong. The address was Winston’s secretary’s office address, and the mail arriving there was sorted and delivered to Winston. He didn’t lie. Except for the fact that he is Santa.
Of course, this was just a contingency plan. If Angela wrote a letter and gave it to the Butler, he would pretend to mail it and deliver it directly to Winston. The child, who was completely unaware of the situation, looked at the envelope for a while as if she was worried, then raised her head and said.
“I wasn’t always a good kid… I didn’t wait patiently, I just thought I couldn’t help it.”
And, Angela hesitated for a moment. Winston waited, gathering the patience that was left to dust again. Finally, the child lowered her gaze and mumbled.
“I had bad thoughts too… Is it okay?”
“It’s okay.”
Winston answered without hesitation.
“Santa knows everything.”
And he added so as not to arouse the child’s suspicion.
“If you don’t think you’re a good enough child to receive a gift, Santa won’t come this year either. You didn’t think you would receive a gift from Santa this time anyway, so you have nothing to lose, right? If it goes well, you get a gift, and if it doesn’t, you just don’t.”
Of course, that won’t happen. Whatever Angela writes on the paper, she will be able to have it all.
Hmm, the child, who had been in serious thought, finally nodded as if she had made up her mind.
“Okay. I’ll write a letter here. Thank you.”
Winston once again felt an indescribable sense of satisfaction at her polite appearance of not forgetting to say thank you. He was even impressed that Yu-jin had raised the child so well despite suffering from financial difficulties.
Yes, she lived so hard that she realized her poverty.
The satisfaction soon disappeared with the thought that suddenly came to mind, and instead, a sense of complexity came. Yu-jin’s criminal record was only what he had learned last time. Traces of trying to live with his daughter somehow could be found through the child.
The more he tried to get closer to Angela, the more Winston felt like he was learning about Yu-jin’s other side that he had been ignoring. He had never imagined him pouring such deep love into his child. The Yu-jin that Winston had thought of until now was just a snob who was blinded by money and desire. But he could be so devoted to Angela. Is that what a child is?
When he thought that far, Angela got up from her seat with the stationery and envelope. When Winston inadvertently turned his gaze, the child spoke clearly.
“I have to write a letter now, so would you please leave, Mr. Campbell?”The polite tone was definitely something he’d seen in a drama or book. Winston smiled, picked up his jacket, and stood up. He unconsciously reached out to stroke the child’s head, but stopped abruptly. Angela had stepped back. *Still not ready,* he thought, as the child covered her head with her hands and said,
“Don’t touch my hair, it’ll mess up my hairstyle.”
It was such a reasonable reason. *Oh dear,* Winston barely suppressed a laugh.
“Alright, I’ll be careful from now on.”
Instead, he tapped the child’s cheek with his finger and left the room with a light step. Left alone, Angela picked up a pencil, sat at the tea table, and began to write a letter carefully. After nearly half a day, the child completed the letter and asked the Butler to seal the envelope with glue.
“I’ll mail it with the other mail tomorrow.”
The Butler said, trying to take it, but Angela was not an easy opponent.
“No! I want to mail it myself. That’s the only way I can be sure.”
Taken aback by the firm answer, the Butler reported it to Winston as it was.
“Let her do as she wishes.”
Winston readily agreed, and the next day Angela went to the nearby post office with the Butler as she had hoped. Only after going to the counter, buying a stamp, and mailing the letter herself did the child return to Delights with a relieved and proud face.
* * *
“Welcome home, Mr. Campbell.”
The Butler, who greeted Winston with more respect than usual, having returned home earlier than usual, glanced around before taking an envelope from his inside pocket and handing it over. As Winston had instructed in advance, as soon as Angela had mailed the letter and turned around, the Butler had another employee retrieve it.
“Good work.”
Winston put it in his suit’s inside pocket with a satisfied expression. He couldn’t concentrate on work all day, wondering what she had written. After receiving confirmation that the mission had been completed without a hitch, Winston immediately prepared to leave work. He was so impatient to open the letter. Unlike usual, he climbed the stairs two or three steps at a time. Reaching the study in an instant, Winston instructed the Butler to bring tea and opened the door.
Closing the door behind him, he strode across the large study to his desk, pulled out a chair, sat down, and took a deep breath.
Finally.
It felt like he had been waiting for this moment all day. He couldn’t stand it any longer, wondering what the child had written in the letter. His hand trembled slightly as he took the envelope out of his inside pocket. Then he took out a paper knife and finally cut open the sealed envelope.