The night was deep, draped in thick shadows, the only illumination coming from the pale silver moon outside the small wooden cabin. The world outside lay silent. The birds were nestled in their nests, the wind barely whispered through the trees, and only the occasional chirping of a cricket echoed through the darkness.
Inside the modest one-room home, a dim oil lamp flickered weakly, casting golden glows across the rough wooden walls. A rickety bed sat in the corner, its sheets slightly crumpled. The air carried the faint scent of aged wood and the lingering warmth of the fire that had long since died down.
A small girl, no older than six, curled up beside a tall man on the worn-out bed. She had silky black hair that cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves, contrasting against her pale skin. Her big round blue eyes, filled with innocence and curiosity, glowed under the soft light as she gazed up at the man beside her. Her tiny fingers clutched at the sleeve of his shirt, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Papa… why do we live here alone? Where is Mama?"
The man's body tensed at her words. His strong jawline, dusted with the beginnings of a beard, tightened. His deep brown eyes, which usually held warmth, darkened as sorrow clouded his face. For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
"You said she's safe and watching over us… but why doesn't she show up like Ella's mama?" Alicia's voice held nothing but innocent curiosity as she blinked up at him.
Charles White swallowed the lump in his throat. His large, calloused hand gently ruffled her soft hair, but his gaze remained distant, as if lost in another world.
"She can't show up, Alicia. But she's fine and happy wherever she is." His voice was steady, but underneath, there was an unspoken pain, an ache that had long since settled in his heart.
Alicia frowned, pursing her lips in thought. Then suddenly, she gasped.
"Then why don't we go to her? Maybe the traffic is horrible! Or maybe she lost her favorite dress—just like I do! Or… or maybe she's shy! Oh no, Papa, what if she needs to be saved?" She jumped off the bed, her small feet pattering against the wooden floor as she frantically started searching through the drawers.
Charles rubbed his face, exhausted. "Alicia, calm down."
She whirled around dramatically, placing her hands on her hips. "Okay, I'm calm… but—"
"No 'but.'"
Alicia huffed but then froze as a new thought struck her. Her blue eyes widened as if her entire world had been shattered.
"Wait a second… Papa… you DO know who Snow White is, right?"
Charles blinked, confused. "Snow… who?"
Alicia gasped so loudly that if anyone else had been around, they might have thought the house was on fire. She stared at him in utter disbelief.
"No way… you're kidding, right? Papa, please tell me you're joking!"
Charles crossed his arms. "I… am not."
Alicia dramatically placed a hand over her chest, gasping again as if she had just heard the most horrifying news in existence. Then, with a deadly serious expression, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and pointed an accusing finger at him.
"Mr. Charles White, you are under arrest."
Charles raised a brow. "For what?"
"For not knowing who Snow White is!" Alicia stomped her foot. "I told you countless times to watch movies with me, but you always refuse! And now, at only ten years old, I have to carry all the responsibility of teaching you culture! Do you understand the burden you have placed on my tiny shoulders?"
Charles sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alicia, honey… keep your voice down. It's past midnight, and you're still awake."
Alicia crossed her arms. "And whose fault is that?"
"Mine, of course," Charles admitted in defeat, sighing heavily. "Can we sleep now? I need to be at work by seven in the morning."
Alicia's expression shifted instantly from frustration to sadness. She looked up at him, her voice quieter this time.
"Work, work, work… you don't even have time for me anymore. Do I have to stay awake all night just to see you?"
Charles's chest tightened at her words. He reached out, cupping her small face in his warm hands. "I'm sorry, honey."
She pouted. "You're always sorry."
"I know."
Alicia suddenly narrowed her eyes. "What's your boss's name?"
Charles frowned. "Why?"
"Just tell me! It's not like I want to eat him. I just… want to report him to the cops tomorrow morning."
Charles chuckled despite himself. "Why?"
Alicia placed her hands on her hips, her small frame radiating determination. "Dad, kidnapping is a crime. And that man took you from me! Don't you understand? I don't share my belongings, especially my beloved Papa!"
Charles let out a tired chuckle, shaking his head as he lay back down and turned off the lamp. "Go to sleep, Alicia."
"Dad!"
Silence.
"Dad!!"
Soft snoring filled the air.
Alicia let out an exaggerated sigh and flopped onto the bed beside him.
"Ugh. Typical."