The living room was filled with soft afternoon light, filtering through the sheer curtains that danced in the breeze. The warmth of the sun rested on Nora's small hands as she sat cross-legged on the carpet, her little fingers tracing the edges of an old photo album. She had seen it many times before—her mother kept it on the shelf next to their collection of bedtime storybooks.
At four years old, Nora didn't yet know why she always felt drawn to the album. She only knew that every time she flipped through its thick pages, she was searching for something. Or maybe, someone.
"Mommy, can you look with me?" she asked, glancing up at Elise, who was folding laundry nearby.
Elise hesitated for a moment before setting down a neatly folded shirt and joining her daughter on the floor. "Of course, sweetheart," she said, her voice warm but carrying the weight of a memory she wasn't quite ready to share.
Nora turned the pages carefully, her small hands pressing flat against the old photographs. There he was again—the man with the kind eyes and a gentle smile, his dark hair neatly combed. In some pictures, he stood in front of a car, grinning confidently. In others, he was at a dinner table, laughing with a group of people. But the ones Nora loved most were the ones where he was with her mother. Her mother always smiled differently in those photos—so wide, so happy.
She pointed at one. "Mommy, is Daddy nice?"
Elise paused, her fingers lightly brushing over Michael's face in the picture. "Yes, Nora," she said softly. "He's very nice. He loves you very much."
Nora tilted her head. "But I don't remember him."
Her mother swallowed hard. It wasn't a conversation she had planned on having today, but Nora was growing, and her questions were getting harder to avoid.
"He had to go somewhere before you were born," Elise said carefully. "Somewhere far away."
Nora furrowed her little brows. "Like a work trip?"
Elise nodded, though something in her expression shifted. "Something like that."
Alex, who had been playing with his toy cars nearby, suddenly spoke up. "He's in jail."
Elise sucked in a sharp breath. "Alex!"
"What?" he shrugged. "Grandma said it."
Nora blinked, her young mind struggling to process the word. Jail. She had heard it before, on TV maybe, or when adults talked in hushed voices. It wasn't a good place. She knew that much.
Her mother's face looked tight, like she was trying to hold something inside. "Nora, listen to me," Elise said gently, taking her daughter's hand. "Your father is a good man. He didn't do anything wrong."
Nora looked back at the pictures, at the man who looked so much like her brother but with softer eyes. "Then why is he there?"
Elise's lips pressed together as if she were choosing her next words with great care. "Because sometimes, people lie. And sometimes, those lies are stronger than the truth."
The words settled in Nora's chest like a puzzle with missing pieces. She didn't understand all of it, but she understood enough. Her father wasn't here because something bad had happened, and now her mother was trying to fix it.
She turned the page, her fingers running over another picture of her father. In this one, he was looking directly at the camera, his eyes filled with something she couldn't quite name.
One day, she promised herself, she would understand everything.
For now, she would keep searching for him in the photographs.