Zane gazed at me in amusement, asking, "Did you not ask around about the salaries of the other people in our family's employ?" His question had me stumped.

"None of their monthly salaries fall below 30,000 dollars," he continued. "Furthermore, Willow has autism and doesn't really like to communicate with others, so the difficulty involved in raising her is higher than that of ordinary children. "That said, it's within reason for me to increase your salary. But of course, what's most important is that she's gotten better under your diligent care."

Still not done, he added calmly, "Originally, I even thought of giving you a bigger bonus, but as I was afraid you wouldn't be willing to accept it, I eventually settled for giving you 80,000 dollars. In my eyes, that's already the very minimum." I countered his argument, saying, "But that's all within my job scope."

"Based on my principles, as long as one does their job well, they should be rewarded," he said in return, eyes sparkling with mirth.

He successfully convinced me.

"Alright, then," I said in resignation. "But didn't we come to an agreement on the matter of the posters? Just pay me the normal rate."Property © of .

In response, he replied patiently, "But the gaming company's budget happens to be 100,000 dollars per piece."

"That much? You aren't lying to me, are you?" I asked, staring at him in disbelief.

"Yes," he replied slowly. "Games are one of the more popular industries at the moment. As long as they are made well and are able to attract players, they'll be able to bring in a huge amount of profit."

I didn't fully understand it, but Zane continued to analyze things slowly.

"So, how does one make a good game?" he asked.

Without waiting for my reply, he continued to answer his own question.

"I don't understand games, but what I do understand is that as long as I'm willing to invest money into hiring professional talent, they'll be able to come up with a product that I'm satisfied with." Now, I understood what he was getting at.

He finally concluded by saying, "Therefore, you don't have to feel uneasy about us giving you too much money, as we offer every artist the same rate."

I could finally sigh in relief at that, saying simply, "That's good."

...

When we arrived at Milton's house, I sat in the car while Zane knocked on the door, recording pen in hand. After a short while, the door was opened by Milton, who was evidently surprised to see Zane. "Why are you here?" he asked.

Zane replied expressionlessly, "The plush toys we had custom-made based on you and Dorothy arrived yesterday. Willow was incredibly happy to receive the plush toys and immediately brought them to her bedroom. "She then told the plush toys everything she'd been wanting to say to you two, yet found herself unable to. We were worried you wouldn't be able to hear her heartfelt thoughts, so we placed a recorder pen in the room." As he spoke, he handed the recorder pen to Milton, who accepted it solemnly.

"Thank you," Milton said dazedly.

Ever since Willow stopped talking to anyone due to her autism, he'd thought that there was no longer a way for him to hear her call him "Grandpa" or share her inner thoughts with him.

He felt moved, as he truly didn't think he'd actually live to see the day that she got better. He also didn't expect Zane and Annalise to have actually been considering Willow's needs this whole time.

Zane was forthright in explaining their plan to help Willow recover to Milton, who nodded through the whole explanation, expressing that he and Dorothy would cooperate. After all, they hoped more than anyone else that she could get better quickly. Zane still had company matters to take care of, so after explaining things to Milton, he got back in the car and drove off.

Milton returned to the living room, where he hurriedly shouted, "Quick! Come listen, wifey!"

"What is it?" Dorothy asked, walking over to him.

In response, Milton simply pressed the play button on the recording pen.

"Grandpa, Grandma..."

Willow's voice was crisp and clear, yet still carried the sweet innocence of a little girl.

Dorothy shed tears as she listened to the recording.

"The silly child was actually afraid that we'd hate her. She's going to break my heart at this rate."