System Quest: Get Dad to Love Me

My mother is a mission runner, and I'm the mess she left behind. When she completed her mission to win Dad over, she disappeared without hesitation and dumped the rest of the mission on me. According to the system, my task is simple. All I need is for Dad to wish me a "happy birthday" when I turn eight. Yet, my birthday is only a month away, and he won't even come home. Ever since Mom vanished without a trace, Dad started looking at me differently. No matter what I do, he assumes it's another trick she planned before she left. When I'm running a high fever, I call him, only to discover that he's at another woman's birthday party. The call connects, and before I can say a word, laughter and cheering pour through the phone. "Dad, I feel awful," I croak. "My birthday's next week…" The other end of the line went silent for a few seconds before his cold voice cuts in. "Penelope, if you need money, just ask my assistant, Henry. You know I hate it when people fake being sick to get what they want, especially when they're only after a birthday present." Chapter 1 Penelope's POV My head was spinning, and I could barely keep the tears from welling up in my eyes. "Penelope, why aren't you saying anything?" I struggled to open my eyes and whispered, "Dad… I love you." The system had taught me to say that. It told me that humans had a soft spot for those three words, and if I said them often enough, Dad would eventually come around. But I'd told him I loved him so many times already, and it hadn't made any difference. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to make him love me again. The other end of the line went quiet for a moment. When Dad finally spoke again, his voice was a little gentler. "Do you know where your mom is?" I wanted to answer him, but my eyelids were so heavy that I couldn't keep them open. My phone slipped from my hand, and I didn't even have the strength to pick it up. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard Dad scoff impatiently. "All this just to get me to wish you a happy birthday? I can't believe you're even pretending to be sick now." Then, he hung up. I lay on the floor, pressing my burning cheek against the cool surface. It felt nice against my feverish skin. I wanted to tell Dad that I wasn't pretending to be sick. I really missed him, and I wanted him to come home. If he didn't come back soon, though, I'd have to leave. I'd go somewhere he could never find me and look for the mom who'd abandoned me. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I dreamed about how things used to be. Back then, Dad would come home from work and lift me high above his head, making me giggle uncontrollably. Mom would be busy cooking dinner, but she'd always turn around to scold us for fooling around. I'd been the happiest little girl in the world when we were all together. Now, Mom had abandoned me, and I was nothing but a burden to Dad. When I woke up again, Dad still hadn't come home. Henry Leedon was standing beside my bed, paying the family doctor. When he noticed that I was awake, he sighed in relief. "Ms. Renault, you're finally awake! Thank goodness your fever has broken." I tried moving my fingers and realized that I was still hooked up to an IV. "Mr. Leedon, where's Dad?" I asked. Henry hesitated, his eyes darting away from mine. "Well… Something urgent came up at the company, so Mr. Renault had to go out of town on business." I stared at the ceiling blankly. The truth was, I'd overheard Henry talking on the phone earlier. He'd told the person on the other end that Dad was still helping Daniella Yates pick out a gown. But I didn't tell Henry that I knew he was lying. Mom had told me to be a good girl before she left. She'd promised that as long as I behaved myself, Dad would love me. I'd listened to her and tried my very best, but I still couldn't understand why Dad wouldn't even wish me a happy birthday. That was all I wanted from him, just two little words. Was that really too much to ask? Chapter 2 Penelope's POV After Henry left, I pulled the IV needle out of the back of my hand. It stung a little, and a few drops of blood came out, but I didn't care. I just wanted to surprise Dad when he got home. Whenever Dad came home exhausted from work, he used to love eating the clementines I peeled for him. He'd always smile and tell me what a sweet, thoughtful little girl I was. Remembering that, I hurried to the grocery store and bought some clementines. I carefully peeled them one by one, picking off every little string of white pith until they were completely clean. Then, I carried the plate into the living room and waited for Dad to come home. It was already dark when I finally heard the front door open. I immediately picked up the plate and ran over to him. "Dad, I peeled some clementines for you! They're really sweet." Dad barely glanced at the plate before walking straight past me toward the stairs. "I don't want any. Throw them out." I lost my grip on the plate, and the clementines tumbled onto the floor. As I crouched down to pick them up, I couldn't help pouting. The system sighed. "Host, trying to please Nathaniel the usual way isn't going to work. He's still too angry to appreciate anything you do." "Then what am I supposed to do?" I asked. "He can't forgive your mom for walking out on him, but he's still in love with her," said the system. "Since he won't accept you for who you are, maybe you should try being more like the person he misses." More like the person he misses? I hurried into the study and found the photo album Mom had left behind. It was filled with pictures of her, and Dad had written the same note on the back of every single one—My beloved Larissa. As I looked through the album, I realized Dad must have loved Mom very much. Maybe that was why he'd been so angry ever since she disappeared. If I could remind him of her, perhaps he'd start treating me better. I found Mom's favorite white dress and put it on, using a safety pin to tighten the waist so it would fit me. Then, I took out the tin of chamomile tea she'd left behind and tried my best to make tea. I wasn't very good at boiling water or preparing tea, but I remembered that Mom used to make it for Dad whenever he was upset. She said it helped him calm down. At 10:00 pm, I finally heard someone coming in downstairs. This time, Dad hadn't come home alone. He'd brought Daniella with him. Daniella looked beautiful in a long red dress. She had her arm linked through Dad's and smiled warmly when she saw me. "Oh, you must be Penelope! My goodness, you look just like your mom." Dad's expression darkened the moment she mentioned Mom. I ignored Daniella and carefully carried the cup of tea over to him. "Dad, I made you some chamomile tea." I'd tried to sound exactly like Mom when she spoke to him. I'd even tucked my hair behind my ear the way she always did. Dad looked down at me, but instead of smiling as I'd hoped, he grew increasingly cold. "Who told you to put that on?" He wasn't speaking loudly, but something about his tone frightened me so much that I started trembling. "I-I thought you'd like it, Dad…" He knocked the cup out of my hands, sending scalding tea splashing across the top of my foot. "Ouch!" I cried as the cup shattered against the floor. Daniella gasped and immediately reached for Dad's hand. "Nathaniel, are you alright? Did you get burned?" Dad shook his head without taking his eyes off me. The top of my foot had already turned bright red, and it hurt terribly. But I bit my lip and fought back my tears, afraid that crying would only make Dad dislike me more. "Take it off." I stared at him in confusion. "Dad?" "I said take off that dress!" He suddenly raised his voice, frightening me into taking a step back. "Your mother never wore that dress to suck up to anyone! She'd never lower herself like that! Did that woman tell you to do this? Is that it? Is she hiding somewhere nearby, watching you put on this little act to get me to do what she wants?" I shook my head desperately. "No, Dad! Mom didn't—" "Shut up!" Dad stormed toward me and grabbed the neckline of my dress. He gave it a hard tug, tearing the fabric. I burst into tears when I saw the rip in Mom's favorite dress. "Dad, please don't ruin the dress! It's Mom's!" "So you're aware it belongs to her?" He threw the torn piece of fabric onto the floor and stepped on it. "Don't ever let me catch you pretending to be that woman again. And I don't want to hear her name mentioned in this house!" Then, he pointed toward the stairs, his expression cold. "Get back to your room. You're grounded for a week." I lowered my head and whispered, "I'm sorry, Dad." He ignored my apology and turned to the housekeeper. "Clean up this mess, wash the dress, and put it away. Don't let Penelope into the master bedroom again." I ran back to my room barefoot. By then, a blister had formed where the hot tea had burned my foot, but I barely noticed the pain anymore. I just felt a chill that was even colder than when I was sick with that awful fever. Chapter 3 Penelope's POV The following day, Dad suddenly announced that he was taking me out. Henry brought me a beautiful little formal dress, and a makeup artist came to help me get ready. I thought Dad had finally forgiven me, and I was so excited that my hands wouldn't stop trembling. Our car pulled up outside a luxurious hotel, where countless cameras immediately started flashing. The lights were so bright that I could barely keep my eyes open. Dad took my hand and gave the cameras a polite smile, but his grip was so loose that I felt he might let go at any moment. We were attending a charity gala, and reporters had gathered along the red carpet. The moment they spotted us, they rushed over, shoving their microphones so close that they nearly hit me in the face. "Mr. Renault, we've heard that your wife has been out of contact for quite some time. Is there any truth to the rumors that your marriage is in trouble?" "Mr. Renault, why did you bring your daughter tonight? Is there a reason Mrs. Renault isn't attending such an important event?" Dad stopped walking and bent down to straighten my collar. Then, he leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Don't hide from the cameras. Look right at them and make sure everyone can see how upset you are. I want your mom to see how miserable you've been without her." I froze, staring up at him in disbelief. But Dad had already straightened up and turned toward the reporters. He gave them a sad, helpless smile. "My wife is probably still upset with me. Penelope has been sick these past few days, and she's been asking for her mom constantly. Unfortunately…" He let his voice trail off and sighed softly. The reporters immediately jumped at the chance to get a story about a cruel woman who'd abandoned her husband and daughter. "Ms. Renault, do you miss your mom?" "Has your mom called you at all?" "Sweetheart, did your mom leave because she doesn't want you anymore?" The cameras kept flashing. I looked helplessly at Dad, hoping he'd take me away from all those people. But he just stood beside me, watching without saying a word. He could see how frightened I was. My body was trembling, and tears were gathering in my eyes. But when I tried to move away, he placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me in front of the cameras. That was when I finally understood why he'd brought me here. He wanted everyone to feel sorry for us so that Mom would be pressured into coming back, and I was nothing more than a tool for him to get what he wanted. After the gala, we returned to the car. Dad's affectionate expression disappeared as soon as we were inside. He leaned back against his seat, looking exhausted, and closed his eyes. "Dad…" I gathered my courage and gently tugged at his sleeve. "I didn't like those people. Can we please not go to something like that again?" Dad opened his eyes and brushed my hand away. "Penelope, you need to learn to be more understanding. Until your mom comes back, this is what we have to do. The more miserable you look, the guiltier she'll feel. Eventually, she'll feel so bad that she'll have no choice but to come see me." I stared at him blankly. "But Dad, those things they said really hurt." He turned toward the window, refusing to look at me. "Your mother owes us that much. If we don't do this, she'll never understand how badly she's hurt us." So, that was all my anguish meant to Dad—leverage. He didn't care how much I suffered as long as he could use it to bring Mom back. When we got home, I discovered that Daniella had already moved in. Later, I stood by the window and saw Dad downstairs in the garden, pushing Daniella on the swing. He used to push me like that, too, always looking at me with so much love. The sun was shining brightly, but watching them made my eyes sting. Just then, the system sighed. "Host, your mission progress is still at zero. You only have two days left." I didn't answer. I knew I wasn't going to complete the mission, and there was no point in trying anymore. That evening, while we were having dinner, Daniella handed me a gift box. "Penelope, I got you a birthday present! Why don't you open it and see if you like it?" I didn't take the gift. Instead, I raised my head and looked straight at Dad. "Dad, I want a birthday present from you, too." He was sitting at the head of the table, cutting his steak. He didn't even bother looking up when he answered, "The present Daniella got you is from me, too." "That's not the same," I insisted, keeping my eyes on him. "I don't want anything expensive. I just want you to say something to me." Dad put down his knife and fork before wiping his mouth with his napkin. "What do you want me to say? Happy birthday?" My eyes immediately lit up, but before I could respond, he gave a mocking little laugh. "Don't push your luck, Penelope. You need to understand something. Your mom isn't going to come back because she sees you happy. The only way to make her come back is to show her how much you're suffering." Chapter 4 Penelope's POV "If you're always happy, why would your mom feel sorry for you?" Dad continued. "So, if you really want her to come back, you need to learn to put up with a little disappointment." His words finally broke me. Dad loved Mom so much that he was willing to hurt his own daughter if it meant making her come back to him. At that moment, whatever little hope I'd still been holding on to finally died. I lowered my head and accepted the gift box from Daniella. "Thank you, Ms. Yates." Then, I carried it upstairs without another glance at Dad. Over the next two days, I stayed away from Dad's study so I wouldn't bother him. I also avoided the living room because I didn't want Daniella to think I was getting in her way. Instead, I spent my time gathering everything that belonged to me, including the toys Dad had given me and the clothes Mom had bought for me. I packed it all into a large black trash bag. I wanted to leave my room completely empty for Dad, as though I'd never been there at all. I even scrubbed the floor several times and cleaned all the dust out of the corners. I figured Dad might be a little happier when he saw how clean the room was after I left. After all, he'd always hated having a messy house. Finally, my birthday arrived, and no one seemed to remember. Dad spent the day working in his study, while Daniella played with the cat in the living room. The housekeeper had prepared a lavish spread, but none of it was for me, and there wasn't even a birthday cake. I didn't feel like eating anyway. I sat quietly in a corner of the couch, holding the black trash bag while the clock ticked away on the wall. In five minutes, I'd be gone. "Host, are you sure you don't want to say goodbye?" asked the system. I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head. What good would that do? Dad would probably just accuse me of putting on another act to make him feel sorry for me, or trying to force Mom to come back. I'd rather leave without making a fuss. Once I was gone, it would be like I'd never been there. At 11:58 pm, Dad still hadn't come out of his study. I stared at the closed door, hoping against hope that he might appear. But when it remained shut, I finally gave up waiting. I stood and gave a small bow toward the study. "Goodbye, Dad." My voice was so quiet that no one but me could hear it. Then, I walked to the middle of the living room. Daniella was watching a comedy show on television, laughing loudly at something she found funny. I looked up at the chandelier on the ceiling and remembered how it had seemed to spin above me when I was sick with that terrible fever. Just then, the system spoke again in its usual cold, mechanical voice. "Mission failed. Beginning countdown. Ten, nine, eight…" I closed my eyes. "Here I come, Mom."