?Chapter 1215:


    Ernest let out a faint scoff, clearly exasperated by his son’s awkwardness. He knelt to Locke’s level.


    “From now on, you’re to get along with Joy and look after her. Understood?”


    Locke nodded quickly. “I understand, Dad.”


    He nced at Joy again, now fully aware of the responsibility ced on him.


    In the hospital’s elevator bank, Elissa stepped out and hurried down the corridor, a small bag in hand—the one Melba had asked her to bring.


    “Elissa! Elissa!”


    The voice echoed behind her, but she didn’t immediately register it.


    “Elissa!” The voice grew louder.


    She paused, puzzled, and turned around.


    Ernest and Locke were walking toward her.


    “Oh!” Elissa smiled in surprise. “Mr. Flynn?”


    Then, spotting Locke, she bent down slightly. “Hello, Locke.”


    Locke pouted. “Elissa, didn’t you hear me calling you?”


    “I’m so sorry.” She crouched down, meeting his eyes with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to ignore you—I truly didn’t hear.”


    Locke’s frown disappeared. He grinned. “Elissa, are you here because you’re sick?”


    “No, not at all.” She shook her head. “I came to visit someone. What about you—”


    “Dad brought me to see my aunt and cousin.”


    Realization dawned on Elissa—Joy.


    Then Locke lifted his chin. “Elissa, I want to invite you to dinner. When are you free?”


    “You want to invite me to dinner?” She blinked in surprise. “Why?”


    Locke looked embarrassed. “Because… you helped me find Dadst time. I never got to thank you properly.”


    Elissa chuckled, reaching out to pat his head. “You’re such a thoughtful little gentleman.”


    Feel the thrill at g aln  ov el s .


    She pulled out her phone and opened a photo of the drawing Locke had made. “Look. This beautiful picture of me—you gave me this, remember? That was your thank-you.”


    Locke’s face turned red. “You still have my drawing?”


    “Of course.” She smiled. “And since I epted your drawing, I can’t ept a dinner too, can I?”


    She stood up. “I’ve got some things to take care of. See you next time, Locke.”


    With a wave to Locke and a polite nod to Ernest, Elissa turned and disappeared down the hall.


    “Elissa…” Locke mumbled, lips forming a pout.


    “Come on,” Ernest said, watching her go. “She’s already left.”


    “Dad.” Locke tugged at his sleeve. “Can you promise me something?”


    Ernest raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”


    “I want Elissa to be my new governess.”


    That gave Ernest pause. He fell silent.


    Since Locke’s disappearance, N had be ill with worry. His previous governess, Brigid, was fired, and since then, Ernest had taken great care selecting a new one—this time, factoring in Locke’s preferences.


    So far, no one had been quite right.


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