It had been a heavy downpour for the past few days, and the entrance surveillance cameras had some water droplets on them. Furthermore, it was pitch black outside the door, so Steven and Cecilia stared at the monitor for quite a while.
Cecilia pointed to the small figure bending over and peering through the door crack with uncertainty as she said, "Is that... Emma, my daughter?"
That unique way of watching something exciting could only belong to Emma; Cecilia was sure of it. She would not make a mistake in recognizing her own daughter.
Steven tapped lightly on the coffee table beside him, observing the little figure in the monitor that resembled his son. He joked, "Your daughter? Miss Morrison, please inform me in advance next time if you are bringing your kids here. That way, I can prepare.
"Sneaking around at someone’s doorstep and spying on them isn’t what good children do."
Realizing this was her fault, Cecilia didn't respond.
But how did this little rascal end up here?
