When the nurse arrived, Misha had more or less managed to regulate his breathing. It was still a bit unnatural, but it wasn't as fast as it had been a few minutes ago. Nevertheless, the nurse decided to call over the doctor.

After a round of questions and tests, the doctor concluded that it was a false alarm. However, they did find it a bit odd and noted it in his medical file. With a serious tone, they told the boy to notify them immediately if it were to happen a second time, and the child obediently nodded. Then, they left under the penetrating stare of M. Lesskov, who had closely watched over the doctor's shoulder as they examined his son.

Of course, Misha knew what caused him to hyperventilate. Still, he wouldn't tell a soul. A panic attack was nothing to be proud of. It also made him feel deeply ashamed of himself. Fewer people knew about it, better he would feel.

Moreover, Misha didn't want anyone to delve into the matter too much. In this timeline, his father was not yet human trash, and his body was not covered with scars. He had no proof of his father's physical abuse and thus couldn't accuse him. Aside from breaking apart his family, what else could it do?

After seeing all the care and love and the man's eyes, many memories surfaced, and Misha decided to change his plans about his father. As long as his father didn't pick up his bad habit from their past life, Misha would shut up and allow him to stay in the family, albeit reluctantly.

His mother dearly loved him, and he also dearly loved her. Alexey was not the perfect husband, but he cared for his wife and always put her first. When he saw her, it was like a puppy in front of its master; it seemed like he had grown a tail and was shaken it happily, eagerly waiting for her to notice him. His aloof father turned into a stupid man whenever his mother was in the vicinity.

As for his mother, she couldn't help but laugh and smile whenever her husband tried to coax her. It was always clumsy yet somehow cute and sweet.

This silly scene was deeply graved into Misha's brain. It was a bittersweet memory that he had never been able to forget. The child couldn't bear to destroy his mother's happiness. All he wanted was for his mother and his sister to be happy, nothing else. And he knew his father was necessary to achieve this goal. Like it or not, that man had an important role to play in their life.

Although Misha decided not to toss him aside if he didn't go astray, it didn't mean he would make things easy for him. Even if Alexey was an exemplary father in this timeline, Misha couldn't forget what he had done to him in their previous life. If it wasn't for his mother and his sister, Misha would destroy his father without batting an eyelash - or so he thought.

Luckily, contrary to Gabriel, Alexey didn't touch his sister. Thus, Misha could put his grievances aside, but he still planned to slowly distance himself from the man and stay on his guard, always watching him from the corner of his eyes.

Also, Misha wouldn't let his father touch alcohol, much less lay a finger on his loved ones. He was like a sword of Damocles; he could as well bring heaven or hell upon his family. Only time could tell what path Alexey would choose in this timeline. All Misha could do was trying to prevent a disaster, and if it still happened, make sure his mother and his sister could face it.

For now, though, he didn't have the strength to face his father. In this small body, he felt too weak and insignificant when this man was in the same room as him. He was unable to put aside the impression that he could grab him by the throat and slam him into the wall at any moment. Without his healthy, tall, and lean body, which could easily send flying his father with a single kick, Misha had lost his brazing confidence. He would never admit it, though.

His younger self's physical constitution exerted a lot of psychological strain on him, especially in the presence of his father. Truthfully, he didn't realize it and thought that he was doing fine, telling himself that he was only too lazy to deal with Alexey. But in reality, he didn't even dare to talk to his father and decided to pretend to be sleepy. He was fainting so often lately that no one was surprised.

Only the old lady didn't quite understand why he wanted to sleep when it wasn't even noon. Moreover, weren't they supposed to go shopping in the afternoon? It wasn't the time to stay in bed! Her great-granddaughter needed to come with her so they could choose the perfect dress for her! And they also needed to buy a cat. She felt too lonely lately.

Everyone tacitly decided to ignore her. Even the guy that generally laughed at Misha's expense was starting to find the old lady's ramblings boring.

Alexey silently sat on the plastic chair, his long legs crossed in front of him, and his hands with his fingers interlocked rested on his knee. He glared at the old lady, wishing she would shut her mouth a bit. She was disturbing his son's rest, and it irked him a little. However, it was still an old lady and couldn't be rude to her. Therefore, he only stared at her with an icy expression, trying to convey his dissatisfaction with his eyes.

Although Misha was only resting his eyes, he also found the old lady's nagging quite annoying. Her words didn't make any sense. It was impossible to follow her train of thought. He suddenly wondered how Gabriel was able to discuss with her without losing his mind.

While the old lady was uttering who knew what, the boy let his thoughts wander, trying to think of how he would handle his father and Gabriel. Until lunch, he was deep into his thoughts, which made his fever go up slightly. Only when it was time to eat did he stop pretending to be asleep. He didn't want his father to push his shoulder to wake him up, so he rapidly opened his eyes and sat on the bed. The food was set on the wheeled table, which his father brought closer to him. Without a word, Misha started to eat his not-so-good meal.

As the boy shoved the food down his throat, a little girl and a man entered the room. First, they excused themself for coming while they were eating, and then they went to the old lady's bedside.

Misha sneaked a curious glance at the two of them. It was the first time someone came to visit the old lady since he moved into this room. Hence, they piqued his interest.

It was a man in his early thirties and a girl that seemed a bit younger than him. She was probably around seven years old. The man was nothing special. He had this kind of face that people tended to quickly forget. He was neither handsome nor ugly, neither thin nor fat. Misha could only describe him as banal.

However, the little girl wasn't as dull as the man, on the contrary. She was quite cute. Her chocolate-brown hair reached her waist and was a bit curly. She had an oval face that still held a trace of baby fat, light-brown eyes that sparkled with curiosity, a small nose, and pink lips. Her fluffy dress made her look like a little princess.

Frowning, Misha stared at her for a long time, holding his spoon near his mouth, which made him look a little bit foolish. He didn't know why but she felt eerily familiar.

While he was trying to remember where he had seen her, the father-daughter duo started to talk with the old lady, and they took some news about her health. Then, the boy learned that the little girl was the famous great-granddaughter. The moment he heard this, Misha couldn't help but cough a few times, spilling his soup on the table.

Misha wanted to scream that they didn't look alike at all! How could the old lady mistake him for the little girl!? His hair was blond and relatively short, and his eyes were crystal blue. They weren't even close to brown! In fact, the only thing they had in common was the color of their skin, which was an ordinary white. He could understand that her memories were blurry, but still! He suddenly felt depressed, and his gaze held a hint of resentment when it landed on the girl.

This time, Misha met her eyes, and he was stunned silly. That playful and mischevious look, he could swear he had seen it many times before. When the man realized his daughter wasn't listening, he ruffled her hair slightly while calling her name to draw her attention back, "Vanessa?"

Misha's jaws almost dropped. 'Are you kidding me?' He couldn't believe it. If he remembered correctly, his friend at this age was living in America close to the Canadian border. She had no reason to be here. Well, there was the old lady, but Misha momentarily forgot her existence. The boy decided to ask just in case.

"Mister? What's your name?"

"Me?" asked the ordinary man, pointing at himself. In response, Misha nodded, and the man answered with a small smile, "Dean Abbett."

'So his daughter should be called Vanessa Abett, right?' thought the boy, staring at the little girl incredulously. Maybe they just shared the same name? Feeling his heartbeat accelerating, Misha decided to ask another question, even if it would make him appear somewhat rude. Anyway, he had never been the kind to be polite.

"Why haven't you come sooner? I've been here for a while, but no one came to visit the old lady!" In the corner of his mind, he also thought that it would be great if they could take the nag with them when they left.

"Well... My family lives in Buffalo, so it's quite far from here," shyly admitted the man, his head lowered.

Misha was dumbstruck. Even the timid man corresponded to the description Vanessa had made of her father. 'F.u.c.k! Wasn't I supposed to meet her in ten years!? Why is our first meeting so freaking out of place now!? I don't understand it, I don't understand it, I really don't understand it!'

First, his father cut short his business trip, coming back sooner than expected, and now this. Was it the butterfly effect that Santa Claus had talked about? Misha didn't know, but he thought that he really needed to look into this matter as soon as possible. He had transmigrated into his younger self for a bit more than two weeks, and things were already so different from his past life. He only had a fever! How could it change things to this degree!?