Mrs. Sinta let out a long sigh and looked at her son with a mother's patience.
"Marcel, calm down first, my child. Mila did that with the sincere intention of helping. You know Samudra needs peace and quiet, and breast milk is what's best for his health right now. Your baby needs a mother figure!"
"But she's nobody in this house, Mom! She's a stranger!" Marcel shot back, refusing to give in.
Mr. Sony stepped forward and firmly patted Marcel's broad shoulder.
"Marcel, control your temper. We can talk this over calmly without blowing things out of proportion in the middle of the night."
However, Marcel's decision was final.
His ego and rejection of Mila's presence had slammed the door on any compromise in his heart.
"Mom, Dad, I don't want to hear any more excuses. Tomorrow morning, I want both of these women out of my house!"
Mr. Sony and Mrs. Sinta exchanged worried glances, then looked at Mila and Asilah, who stood there pale-faced.
Mr. Sony patted Marcel's shoulder again.
"All right, Marcel. We'll discuss the final decision tomorrow morning. For now, control your anger."
"Mila, go back to your room and get some rest. Asilah, take good care of Samudra tonight," Mrs. Sinta instructed wisely.
Mila walked back to her room with a shattered heart.
Inside the luxurious room, she sat with her back against the closed door, hugging her knees tightly.
Her tears fell one by one, soaking the fabric of her dress.
Her sincere attempt to help an orphaned baby had only earned her harsh accusations.
Once again, she felt like an unwanted burden, just as she had when Anton abandoned her at the grave.
Not long afterward, a soft knock sounded.
Asilah came into Mila's room.
The young nanny's face looked terribly pale and guilty.
"Mila... forgive me," Asilah whispered shakily, wringing her hands.
"If only I hadn't been late bringing the hot water, you wouldn't have been caught in Mr. Marcel's anger like this..."
Mila wiped away her tears and forced a faint smile.
"It's not your fault, Asilah. I was the one who acted too boldly without thinking it through. Mr. Marcel isn't entirely wrong... I'm really nobody here."
"No, Mila. You're a good person. Baby Samudra was so calm in your arms earlier," Asilah comforted her before finally taking her leave to return to work.
The next morning, a chilly atmosphere still hung over the grand residence.
In the main living room, Mila and Asilah sat anxiously, waiting for the final decision.
A short while later, Mrs. Sinta approached them with a deeply regretful expression.
"Mila, Asilah..." Mrs. Sinta called softly as she sat across from them.
"Marcel is standing by his decision. However, since we haven't found a replacement nanny yet, Asilah will continue working here for the time being."
Mrs. Sinta then took Mila's cold fingers in her hands.
"Mila... before you leave, I want you to know that this decision was not what your father or I wanted at all. We truly appreciated your kindness last night. But... we also have to protect Marcel's mental state. Ever since his late wife passed away, his emotions have been extremely unstable, and he's easily shaken, my child."
Mila lowered her head deeply and nodded in understanding.
"I understand completely, ma'am. Thank you for your kindness and for letting me stay with your family. I'll pack up right away."
Mila hurried to her room upstairs to put her simple clothes back into her cloth bag.
Asilah helped beside her, and the two women embraced tightly in moving silence.
As Mila prepared to lift her bag, Marcel's tall figure appeared in the bedroom doorway.
The neatly dressed man stared at Mila with an unreadable, expressionless face.
A slight flash of discomfort crossed his eyes when he saw that Mila was truly holding her bag, ready to leave.
"Ready?" Marcel asked curtly in his baritone voice.
Mila nodded without daring to look directly into his eyes.
"Yes, Mr. Marcel. Thank you for giving me a place to stay."
Marcel merely gave a stiff nod, ignoring the strange emptiness that suddenly stirred faintly in his chest as he watched Mila walk out of the room.
At the front door, Mr. Sony and Mrs. Sinta were already waiting.
Mr. Sony warmly patted Mila's shoulder.
"Take good care of yourself, my child. We'll always pray for the best for you."
"Here... a little money for your transportation and provisions for the journey," Mrs. Sinta said as she placed a thick brown envelope in Mila's hand.
Mila was startled and tried to refuse it.
"No, ma'am... I've already caused your family so much trouble. I can't accept this money."
"Take it, Mila. Don't refuse my sincere gesture," Mrs. Sinta insisted gently but firmly.
"Use this money as a fresh start as you begin a new life or open a small business."
Mila held back her tears and finally accepted the envelope.
"Thank you so much, ma'am, sir..."
"If you don't mind my asking, where will you go from here, my child?" Mr. Sony asked with concern.
"I... I don't know for sure yet, sir. Maybe I'll temporarily return to the orphanage where I grew up," Mila answered softly.
With a steadfast stride despite her wounded heart, Mila walked out through the house's tall gate and into the chilly morning air.
From behind the large glass window on the second floor, Marcel stood motionless.
His gaze remained fixed on Mila's back as it grew more distant and disappeared around the bend in the road.
The anger that had burned in his chest the night before had now gone out, leaving behind a faint regret he refused to acknowledge.
The image of that woman stroking his baby's head with a mother's loving tenderness kept echoing in his mind, leaving a deep imprint on his heart.