The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne)

Vivienne paused for a moment before asking, "Do you guys know where the Floyds live?"

"At Cherish Villa," Juliette said.

Cherish Villa was one of the upscale neighborhoods around, a recent development on a piece of land that was a bit pricier, but offered good security.

The family of four slowly made their way through the neighborhood, searching for the address.

The villa was quiet, eerily so. Floyd sat at the dining table, his head bowed, hands fidgeting nervously.

As if on cue, the next second was filled with the sound of an argument breaking out at the table.

"Bang!"

The man at the head of the table slammed his hand down, causing the wine glass to tremble fiercely. Floyd's orange juice also spilled because of the sudden movement.

"Are you blaming me? What do you think I'm out there traveling for work for, huh? I'm providing for the kids, what right do you have to criticize me?"

Floyd bit his lip, not daring to make a sound.

The woman beside him was not to be outdone, "What do you mean you're providing? Have you even once picked them up from school? Coming home only to give us that attitude, is he your child or your servant? Carlos Walker, what are you thinking?" The argument between the two escalated, with no regard for the child listening in.

Gradually, Floyd's grip relaxed as his parents' quarrel seemed to stabilize his own emotions.

The nanny, standing aside, was visibly anxious. She had neither the privilege to intervene nor the ability to whisk the child away from the scene. Vivienne could hear the muffled sound of their quarrel from outside the door, exchanging a knowing glance with Percival.

The kids standing beside Percival asked, "Mommy, are they fighting?"

Vivienne shook her head, "Not sure."

The moment Percival rang the doorbell seemed to breathe life into the nanny, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

The ring did nothing to pause the argument inside, which seemed to go on unabated.

The nanny quickly came to the front gate, pausing briefly upon seeing who it was, "May I ask who you're looking for?"

Vivienne nudged Juliette forward, pushing the kids into the spotlight.

Juliette offered a bright smile, "Hi, we're here to see Floyd. We're his classmates."

The nanny, realizing the nature of their visit, smiled, "Alright, just a moment while I call the young master."

Choosing to call Floyd out rather than inviting them in hinted at the ongoing strife inside.

When the nanny opened the door, a sharp sound of something breaking could be heard, followed by a loud, "What more do you want?!"

A figure appeared; seeing it was Juliette and her brother, his face froze for a moment.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"What are you doing here?"

Floyd's tone wasn't welcoming, but Juliette, undeterred and frowning, snapped back, "What's with that attitude? It's not like I owe you money!" "Ah!"

"Please, young master, mind your manners."

Both sets of guardians were ready to intervene.

Juliette, rubbing her head and facing Vivienne's stern look, knew she couldn't escape this situation.

"Today at school, there was a misunderstanding, and we've come to apologize," Percival explained as he gently pushed the kids forward.

With the door now open wider, the three kids formed a triangle. Isaiah, feeling somewhat detached from the childish squabble, had only joined in to cheer his sister up. When Vivienne mentioned apologizing, Isaiah didn't hesitate, looking earnestly at Floyd, "I'm sorry, Floyd. My sister and I shouldn't have hit you today."

After apologizing, Isaiah even bowed slightly, much to Vivienne's amusement.

Seeing Isaiah apologize, Juliette knew she couldn't avoid doing the same. She took a step forward, hesitantly saying, "Sorry, Floyd. I shouldn't have hit you."

Her voice was low, the most significant concession she felt she could make, given she believed Floyd was also at fault.

Floyd, shocked at the apologies, momentarily forgot the argument in the background. He nodded slightly, "I was wrong too, shouldn't have said those things. You're not wrong; your parents do love you."

Vivienne and Percival were surprised by his tone, which sounded almost envious.

So, the quarrel inside was between his parents?

Juliette, not expecting Floyd's apology, suddenly felt awkward.

"Now that things are settled, we should head back," Vivienne announced, sensing the moment to depart.

Floyd, noticing their intention to leave, felt a fleeting sense of loss, wishing they could stay longer.

"Floyd, we'll see you at school tomorrow!"

Juliette's mood quickly shifted back to normal. Since they had apologized to each other, there was no reason to linger on the incident.

Floyd nodded as they left.

He stood at the door, watching their warm departure, feeling an inexplicable sadness.

Inside, the argument grew louder, and Floyd felt an urge to escape. Seizing a moment while the nanny was distracted, he ran out into the street mot knowing where he was heading, just away from home.

On the street, he noticed kids playing under their parents' watchful eyes, except for him, all alone.

"That looks like Floyd," Juliette noted, peering out the car window.

Vivienne followed her gaze, spotting the boy on the curb, looking lost. Percival glanced at Vivienne, seeking her decision.

"The little guy being out here all alone doesn't sit right with me. Let's go check it out."

"Sure thing."

Percival drove them over.

Floyd remained standing, suddenly bathed in a burst of light so brilliant it forced his eyes shut. When he could finally squint them open again, Vivienne and her family were stepping out of the car. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

Floyd blinked against the glare, struggling for words at the sight of Vivienne.

"Why did you wander off alone?" Noticing the flush on Floyd's cheeks, Vivienne handed him a pill, "Do you need some help? Want to come with us?"

The adaptation replaces the

original's more straightforward approach with a blend of curiosity and concern that would resonate well in a Western context. Vivienne's offer of a pill is kept vague to avoid direct references to specific Cultural practices of medication or healing, maintaining the focus on her gesture of care.