“Before Bed”

The hotel room was quiet, dimly lit by the soft golden spill of a lamp by the bedside. The Eiffel Tower glittered distantly through the open window, casting long shadows across the floor. Alya lay curled under the white sheets, her small fingers fidgeting with the corner of her blanket.

Seraphine sat beside her, brushing her daughter’s hair back with trembling fingers. Alya’s eyelids fluttered sleepily, but something still buzzed behind her eyes — a question she’d carried quietly all day.

“Mama,” she said softly.

Seraphine hummed in response, still stroking her hair.

Alya paused, then asked the question like she was testing the air:

“Did I ever have a dad?”

Seraphine’s hand froze in her daughter’s hair.

For a moment, the room felt too quiet — like even Paris had stopped to listen.

She looked down at Alya’s face. Those wide, rose-colored eyes — his eyes — were half-lidded, innocent, waiting. Not demanding. Just... wondering.

Seraphine opened her mouth.

Then closed it again.

The words gathered behind her teeth like a storm, but none of them felt right. Not the truth. Not the lie. Not anything in between.

She swallowed.

“You... you have me,” she said instead, softly. “You’ve always had me.”

Alya blinked. “I know. But... was there someone before?”

Seraphine smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Some stories are harder to tell, baby,” she whispered, brushing her fingers against Alya’s cheek. “But I promise... someday. Okay?”

Alya yawned, nodded slowly, and nuzzled into her pillow. Her fingers reached out, small and warm, wrapping around Seraphine’s hand.

“Okay,” she mumbled. “But I think he must’ve loved you. If you loved him.”

Seraphine looked away.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

She leaned down and kissed her daughter’s forehead gently. Her lips lingered there, like an apology she couldn’t say.

“Sleep now,” she whispered, voice cracking.

And Alya did.

But Seraphine didn’t move for a long time. She just sat there — silent, shaking — holding her daughter’s hand like it was the only thing keeping her from breaking open.

---