Chapter 440 A Dark Hour's Redemption
"The night your engagement was announced, Ken and Alice found me," Dagmar said, his eyes downcast as he fiddled with his fingers. "They thought you'd left me high and dry and suggested I help them get back at you and Grandma Rhoads. Frankly, the pay was substantial, and with the hate I was harboring, I considered going through with their revenge plan."
For Dagmar, that period was an absolute low.
The girl he loved had married the one who shattered his life. Long-suppressed psychological struggles violently erupted; whenever his wrist itched from old wounds, he thought about ending it all.
Over time, the torment twisted his psyche in untraceable ways.
Ken and Alice had been watching him. They chose the moment he sobered up from a drunken stupor. That was also when he received Janna's message about the medical group being sold off for a bargain.
To Dagmar, it felt like charity. His pride, deep-seated pain, and resentment bloomed maliciously within him.
Ken used the medical group as a bargaining chip, dangling it over him like a lure.
Then, without much internal debate, his allegiance tipped toward Ken.
They gave him two days to think it over.
Just as he was about to decide, hell-bent on revenge, a call from the Yonne siblings arrived.
He dragged himself to the hospital, expecting a plea for money.
He was about to hand over some cash and leave when Yonne took his hand and pulled him to the small garden behind the ward.
There, amid a bed of lavish blooms, Yonne's brother clumsily held a tiny cake with a candle flickering dangerously in the wind.
"You guys..."
Dagmar stood frozen.
Yonne had just lost a tooth; her smile looked even goofier.
"Uncle, happy birthday!" She said, pointing to the cake. "Make a wish and blow out the candle!"
It wasn't Dagmar's birthday, but still, in a daze, he stepped forward and blew out the candle.
"Eat up, eat up!" Yonne tugged at his sleeve.
Dagmar didn't like anyone touching his wrist and instinctively pulled his hand back.
Yonne, a timid soul by nature, was jolted by his reaction and shrank her neck. "Uncle, I... I didn't mean to; I just wanted you to have some cake."
The girl could have been better with words.
Her face flushed with embarrassment. "We... we don't mean anything by it. We'll pay you back for the medical costs and the cake; we earned the money ourselves..."
"Earned it yourself?" Dagmar raised an eyebrow. "Your ribs, have they healed?"
It wasn't enough time for a full recovery.
"It was the cleaning lady; she let me help her collect bottles. I made ten dollars; it's the first time I’ve ever earned money!" Yonne's eyes sparkled with pride.
"How much for the cake?" Dagmar asked.
"Ten dollars!" Yonne responded.
Dagmar was taken aback. "It was your first earning. Why didn’t you spend it on yourself?"
Yonne, grinning foolishly, didn't reply.
"Just eat it," the boy urged, her face still red as he handed the cake to Dagmar.
Dagmar took it.
He glanced at it and said, "Today's not my birthday."
Yonne and her brother froze.
Frowning, the girl said firmly, "But the internet says today's your birthday!"
"You looked me up online?" Dagmar was surprised.
"People at the hospital said you're someone important, so I did," the girl stated confidently.
Owing someone a deep debt of gratitude, she'd been mulling over what else she could do besides repaying the money.
Somehow, the idea of a birthday came to mind.
For these kids, a birthday was of utmost importance.
If they could have cake on their birthday, that was the purest form of happiness.
Dagmar looked at the cake in his hands.
But today wasn't his birthday.
It was the anniversary of his fall into the abyss.
"Uncle, please eat it. After eating Thalassa's cake, you'll feel good!" Yonne's timid voice brought him back to reality.
"How do you know I'm not happy?" Dagmar asked, his tone much softer.
Yonne was still hesitant.
She was too young, and her harsh life hadn't equipped her with the eloquence of someone from Chicago.
"Your eyes are red. When I miss Mom and Dad, my eyes get red too," she said softly.
Dagmar looked at her for a moment in silence.
Then he sat down.
He took a bite of the cake.
The cheap treat felt delightful in his mouth. Dagmar ate it, bite by bite, until it was all gone.
Yonne and her brother watched eagerly.
After Dagmar finished, the brother mumbled, "He didn't even ask if my sister wanted some..."
Since they bought the cake, his sister had been wanting to taste it once.
He taught his sister to hold back and told her that even if Uncle offered her cake, she should refuse.
It was a lesson in futility.
The last crumb of cake was gone.
Dagmar gazed at the sparse stars dotting the night sky.
Then his eyes shifted to the two kids.
They imitated him, craning their necks to look at the sky. Seeing this, a smile that had been long absent crossed Dagmar's face.
Maybe the world wasn't so terrible after all.
At least he had two rascals who celebrated his birthday with all they had.
"Are you two thinking about heading to the orphanage?" Dagmar asked.
The boy caught on first. The naive light in his eyes flickered and was replaced by wariness. "If we go, they'll split us up. So, no!"
Dagmar nodded in understanding.
Looking up again at Jessie, he proposed, "What if I adopt you both instead?"
The boy blinked, puzzled. "Adopt?"
"You up for it?" Dagmar looked at him steadily.
"Why... Why would you? You're famous; they say you're some sort of tycoon. You can have lots of your own kids; you don't need us…" The boy's speech accelerated, flustered.
The thought of being wanted by him was unbelievable.
Despite their best efforts to keep themselves neat and clean, people still sneered and called them dirty. Even passing by some shopfronts could get them harsh words hurled their way.
Would anyone honestly want such kids?
Dagmar's eyes stung as he stared at the stars. "I guess I'll never have kids of my own."
"Are you sick or something?" the boy asked.
"No." Dagmar's reply was flat.
"Then why can't you have your own kids?" the boy pressed.
Dagmar's gaze lingered on the twinkling Jessie.
"Because I only want to bring new life into this world with someone I love. And the woman I love, well, she doesn't love me back."
It’s impossible for kids to understand the complexities of love. The kid absentmindedly fiddled with a scar on his finger.
"You… Do you want to adopt us?"
With his sister's growth and repeated beatings they couldn't fight off, the boy had come to realize the ease with which death could come. Even if it didn't, it was damn hard to protect her in a world full of rotten characters.
"Or, you could just adopt my sister if you prefer!" he yelled in haste, fearing Dagmar might change his mind.
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