The room was loud.
Too loud.
The woman's heels clicked sharply against the floor as she pointed an accusing finger.
The man beside her nodded aggressively, backing her up with half-formed sentences.
"He's our nephew!"
"You can't just take him!"
"He belongs to our family!"
Daniel listened at first.
Then he stopped smiling.
The shift was subtle—so subtle that no one noticed it immediately. His shoulders didn't tense. His fists didn't clench. He didn't raise his voice.
He simply looked at them.
And that was enough.
The aunt froze mid-sentence.
The uncle's throat dried instantly.
For them, it felt like the room had disappeared.
Like they were standing at the edge of something massive—something calm, ancient, and endlessly patient. A towering shadow loomed over them in their minds, eyes glowing white with restrained fury. Not hatred. Not rage.
Judgment.
Their legs trembled.
The man's knees gave out first. He dropped to the floor with a dull thud, hands instinctively supporting his weight. The woman followed a second later, her breath shaky, her face drained of color.
Silence swallowed the office.
Daniel finally spoke.
"No more objections?"
His voice was quiet. Almost bored.
No answer came.
The mute boy tightened his grip on Daniel's sleeve. His fingers dug into the fabric like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. His chest felt tight—but this time, it wasn't fear alone.
The people who once terrified him… were on the ground.
Daniel glanced down at the boy, then back at the documents.
"Well then," he said, tone suddenly light again, "let me sign the last paper."
He picked up the pen.
A few strokes.
One final signature.
"And… done!"
He leaned back slightly, satisfied.
"I'm officially a father," he said with a grin. "Single parent, too. Hehe."
The head of the orphanage sighed deeply and rubbed his temples.
"Please don't joke about that in a legal office."
Daniel laughed it off.
He turned to the boy and bent slightly so they were closer to eye level.
"Shall we go then, son?"
The boy hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Then nodded.
Outside, cold air rushed in like a slap. Snow crunched underfoot as they walked toward the car parked near the entrance.
Daniel paused suddenly.
"Hey," he said casually. "I'm honestly surprised by how hard you were tugging earlier."
The boy looked up, confused.
"And I'm really glad you didn't pull *this* down," Daniel added, gesturing at the towel around his waist. "That would've been a disaster."
He laughed.
A real laugh.
The boy's lips twitched—just barely.
Pfft…
This is going to be a wild journey with this man as my father…
They got into the car.
The engine roared to life.
"Hold tight," Daniel said cheerfully.
The car shot forward with a *vrooom*, disappearing into the snowy road—toward the gym, toward the future, toward a family that neither of them had planned… but both of them needed.