Jack’s timid and cautious demeanor only deepened my feelings of guilt and distress.

As I lay beside her, reading a fairy tale before bed, my phone suddenly rang. It was Al.

"I drank too much with my clients today and couldn’t pick up our daughter."

"I heard from Aunt Elsa that you came home early from work today? Did you finish everything at the office?"

"I won’t be coming home tonight. Mr. Moore insisted on dragging me to play mahjong, so I’ll probably be staying out all night."

After a brief exchange, I hung up the phone.

Ever since Jack started kindergarten, Al and I had been drifting further apart.

With the company expanding rapidly, I established a new branch, which Al took over. He became too busy to take care of Jack, so he hired our current nanny, Elsa Grant.

From the very beginning, I never liked her. She didn’t seem like a professional nanny. When she first started working for us, she often complained that Jack’s food and clothes were too extravagant. She even made comments like, "Girls don’t need to be raised so well."

If she hadn’t been a distant relative of Al’s, I would have dismissed her right away.

But Al trusted her completely, insisting that she would take good care of Jack.

In the end, I relented.

Over the past year, my career soared to new heights, but at the same time, Jack had lost her former liveliness. She had become overly cautious, as if she were always afraid of being abandoned.

It reminded me too much of my own lonely childhood.

My parents had been preoccupied with their careers, leaving me with everything I needed—except love and attention. My childhood was far from happy.

Some say that people spend their entire lives trying to heal from their childhood, while others use their childhood to heal their entire lives.

I refuse to let Jack go through what I did.

Maybe it was time to slow down and refocus on what truly mattered—my daughter.

Just as these thoughts filled my mind, Elsa suddenly pushed open the bedroom door, walking in with a glass of milk.

Jack, who had been listening intently to my story, suddenly shuddered.

I didn’t know if it was because of the abrupt intrusion—or something else.

My expression darkened as I snapped, "Why did you come in without knocking?"

Elsa blinked in surprise before blurting out, "There’s no outsider in the house. Why do I need to knock?"

Was she really treating my home as her own?

I gave her a cold stare and said in a firm voice, "Learn the rules. This is not your house."

"Without my permission, you are not allowed to enter mine or Jack’s room whenever you please. Do you understand?"

A flicker of displeasure crossed her face, and she muttered, "Fine, I got it."

She then placed the glass of milk on my bedside table and added, "Jack always drinks milk before bed. She won’t be able to sleep without it."

With that, she left, her expression dark.

I watched her retreating figure, my irritation growing.

She had no sense of boundaries, no professionalism. I was seriously considering replacing her.

I reached for the glass of milk, smiling at Jack as I said, "Sweetheart, drink this and get some sleep. Mommy will take you to kindergarten tomorrow morning, okay?"

Jack hesitated, shrinking away from the milk. Her voice was small as she whispered, "Mom… can I not drink it?"

I frowned. "But you used to love drinking milk, didn’t you?"

Jessie hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "This milk tastes strange. Every time I drink it, I sleep so deeply that I don’t wake up—even if I wet the bed."

My expression stiffened. I lifted the glass to my lips and took a small sip. The rich, creamy taste was laced with a subtle bitterness. No wonder Jessie disliked it.

After tucking Jessie into bed and coaxing her to sleep, I picked up my phone, my face darkening. I needed to check the surveillance footage.

I had to find out if Elsa had been mistreating Jessie. There was no other way to explain my daughter’s fear of her.

The security cameras in our house had originally been installed by my parents. They had been too busy with work to care for me themselves, so they used surveillance to check in on me from afar.

Since marrying Al, I hadn’t used the system much. But when Jessie started kindergarten, I quietly turned the cameras back on—without telling Al.

I had my doubts about Elsa from the start. But since she was Al’s relative, telling him that I wanted to monitor her every move would only make him think I didn’t trust his judgment.

Still, with my workload, I never had time to review the footage. Until now.

I pulled up yesterday’s recording—Jessie’s birthday.

As I watched, my blood boiled.

Al hadn’t even been home. Jessie had spent her birthday with Elsa.

But what infuriated me the most was the cake.

Instead of the luxurious Black Swan cake I had specially ordered, Jessie had been given a cheap roadside pastry that cost only a few yuan.

On-screen, Elsa’s face twisted with impatience. "It’s just a birthday. Be grateful you even have a cake! Don’t be picky."

She sneered and added, "Your mother, that wasteful woman, throws money away on you, a useless brat."

"My grandson’s birthday is tomorrow. This fancy cake will be perfect for him."

Elsa’s voice turned sharp and threatening. "Listen to me, little loser. If your mother asks, you’d better say you ate that expensive cake. If you don’t—" her eyes narrowed dangerously, "I’ll beat you."

She grabbed Jessie’s wrist, shaking her slightly. "Now hurry up and eat, then go to bed. And don’t forget to drink your milk. If you wet the bed again tonight, I’ll string you up and thrash you tomorrow. Do you hear me?"

Jessie’s small face was frozen with fear.

My hands trembled as I watched, barely able to contain my rage.

That wicked old woman dared to treat my daughter like this?

I wanted to storm out of my room and tear her apart.

Then, I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Elsa pulled a small packet from her pocket and poured something into the milk. Then, she forced Jessie to drink it, ignoring her frightened protests and struggles.

Moments later, Jessie’s tiny body went limp in deep sleep.

As if that wasn’t enough, Elsa then crept into my bedroom and ransacked my belongings. She stuffed my jewelry, Jessie’s designer clothes, custom-made shoes, and even her expensive toys into a bag.

Finally, she picked up the untouched Black Swan cake and casually strolled out—leaving my daughter asleep on the floor.

Elsa wasn’t just abusing my child—she was a thief.

I would never forgive her.

Furious, I reached for my phone to call the police.

But suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me. My eyelids grew unbearably heavy.

With my last bit of strength, I glanced at the glass of milk on my nightstand.

I had only taken a sip, and the drug was already overpowering me.

I could only imagine how much my daughter had suffered, drinking this poisoned milk night after night.

Darkness swallowed me before I could do anything more.

The next morning, Jessie wet the bed.

Her small body trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes. She clutched my sleeve and whimpered, “Mom, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even drink milk last night—I don’t know why this happened!”

I gently pulled her into my arms, stroking her back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t be scared.”

The moment Elsa found out, she frowned in clear annoyance. “She’s almost four years old and still wetting the bed? What a hassle.”

As she yanked the sheets off the bed, she shot Jessie a sharp glare.

Jessie flinched, shrinking into me, her tiny fingers gripping my shirt.

I turned to Elsa, my gaze cold. “Aunt Elsa, you have a grandson, don’t you? His name is Jack. He goes to the same kindergarten as Jessie, right?”

Elsa stiffened, her expression momentarily blank. Then, as if realizing what she had just admitted, her face darkened. “How… how did you know?”

I crossed my arms and continued, my tone calm but laced with steel. “The elite kindergarten Jessie attends has a steep tuition fee. Your daughter must be well-off to afford it. So tell me, Aunt Elsa—if she’s so rich, why are you working as a nanny?”

Elsa’s expression faltered. She forced a tight smile. “I’ve worked all my life. Sitting at home doing nothing just isn’t for me.”

I held her gaze for a long moment before saying nothing more.

Today was the weekend, so I took Jessie to the newly opened Capybara Theme Park.

On the way there, I called the police.

Elsa’s abuse and threats toward Jessie were unforgivable. But even if I set that aside, the fact that she had stolen from my home was enough to put her behind bars for years.

At the amusement park, Jessie ran from one attraction to another, her laughter bright and unrestrained. Watching the pure joy on her face, I felt my heart soften.

My sweet baby girl. No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.

While Jessie was happily riding the carousel, my phone rang. It was my secretary.

“Ms. Miller, I wanted to update you on a few company matters,” she began.

I cut her off. “I’m at the amusement park with my daughter today. Work matters from the branch can wait.”

There was a brief silence before she replied, “Understood, Ms. Miller. But there’s something urgent—our financial director found discrepancies in the branch’s accounts. Mr. Durham is in charge there. Should we inform him first?”

My expression hardened. “No need. Tell the financial director to personally conduct an audit. If any irregularities are found, report them directly in the next morning meeting.”

After ending the call, I clenched my phone tightly, my anger simmering.

I had entrusted Al with managing the branch. He had always complained about not having a platform to showcase his skills—how he didn’t want people thinking he was just a man riding on his wife’s success.

Yet here we were.

Less than a year since the branch was established, and there was already a financial issue.

If Al weren’t my husband, I would have fired him immediately without hesitation.

Just then, my phone rang again. It was Al.

So, he had already heard about the audit. Was he calling to plead with me, desperate to save face before the company meeting?

I answered, fully prepared to ask about the financial mess at the branch.

But before I could say a word, Al’s furious voice blasted through the receiver.

“Rosa Miller, have you lost your mind?” he shouted.

“Did you seriously call the cops on Aunt Elsa?”

“What the hell did she ever do to you? Why would you have her arrested?”

“Come home right now! The police are here, and they’re refusing to leave. You need to fix this mess immediately!”