The living room was unusually quiet that morning, too quiet for Sophie's comfort. The curtains hung still as if even the air had decided not to move. She clutched her little drawing book tightly in her lap, her knees pulled close to her chest, and her eyes swollen from crying.
Normally by the time she woke, the smell of fried eggs, plantains, or some quick breakfast her brother managed to throw together filled the air. If not, at least a scribbled note on the counter—Be back later, Sophie. Be good. But today, nothing. No food. No note. No Jason.
She had sat in the living room since dawn, tiny shoulders trembling, tears streaking her cheeks as her imagination kept painting terrible pictures: Jason gone like their parents, Jason leaving and never coming back, Jason… dead.
Her sobs broke the silence. They echoed through the small apartment, raw and piercing. She pressed her palms into her eyes, whispering to herself:
"Please, please let him come back. Please don't let him leave me alone."
The sound of keys clinking at the door snapped her head up. She froze, hardly daring to breathe. Then, the door creaked open.
Jason stepped inside, hair damp with sweat, a tired slump in his shoulders. His jogging outfit clung to him, and his eyes—red from lack of sleep—looked surprised when he saw Sophie curled up on the couch, crying.
"Sophie?" His voice cracked, low and regretful.
She shot up, her small feet thudding against the floor as she ran straight into his arms. She slammed into him so hard he almost dropped the bottle of water in his hand.
"Where were you?!" she screamed into his chest, her fists hitting him weakly as tears spilled again. "Why didn't you leave a note? Why didn't you… why didn't you tell me anything?"
Jason froze. His heart clenched painfully at her sobs. He set down the bottle and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as if she might vanish if he let go.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair, stroking her back. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just… I needed to step out. I lost track of time."
"You always make breakfast… or write something…" Sophie hiccupped, pulling back slightly to look up at him with tear-stained cheeks. "I thought you left me… like everyone else."
The words stabbed deeper than any blade. Jason swallowed hard, guilt washing over him. He bent down, pressing his forehead to hers.
"No, Sophie. Never. I'll never leave you. You're the reason I'm still here. Don't ever think I'll just walk out of your life. I promise."
She sniffled, nodding against him. Slowly, her trembling eased into relief. Jason brushed her hair back, wiping her tears with his thumbs.
To break the heaviness, he forced a grin. "Besides, who else is going to eat your terrible drawings if I'm not here?"
Sophie gasped, offended. "They're not terrible! You always say you like them!"
Jason chuckled, ruffling her head. "I do. I'm just teasing."
Her lips twitched into a small smile, fragile but real.
"See? There's my sunshine." He stood, stretching his stiff muscles, then winced as his body screamed from last night's overtraining. Sophie caught the wince immediately.
"You're hurt," she said softly.
"No, just sore," he lied quickly, heading toward the bathroom. "I need to shower, then get ready. The workshop's waiting. Can't skip another day or we'll be eating air."
Her small hand tugged his arm. "Let me come with you today."
Jason froze. He wanted to say yes. He wanted her company, her laughter. But the workshop was full of sharp tools, heavy metal, and rough men. Not a place for her fragile hands.
He knelt, meeting her eyes. "Not today, Sophie. I don't want you to get tired or hurt. I'll only be gone for a while. You'll be safe here, yeah?"
Her eyes dimmed with disappointment, but she nodded slowly. "Okay. But promise you'll come back before night."
Jason kissed her forehead. "Promise."
---
Later That Day
The shower didn't wash away his exhaustion. His muscles screamed as he pulled on his work clothes. Every step toward the workshop felt heavier, like dragging chains.
But the system had already shown him last night—this was the path forward. If he wanted Sophie in school, if he wanted her smiling every day, he couldn't afford weakness.
He glanced back at the apartment door before leaving, hearing Sophie humming faintly inside. He smiled softly, though guilt still twisted in his chest.
I'll make it up to you, he thought, tightening his bag strap. One way or another.
---
At the workshop, the familiar clang of metal and the acrid smell of grease greeted him. The place was alive with noise—sparks flying, hammers clashing, voices shouting. His co-workers greeted him casually, unaware of the storm behind his eyes.
Jason forced himself into rhythm, though his arms trembled more than usual. Every swing of the hammer sent pain shooting up his sore muscles. Every lift of heavy equipment felt like fire in his back. But he endured.
He needed today's pay. Sophie needed it.
His mind drifted back to the morning, to her tears. He bit his lip, hammering harder, ignoring the sting in his palms.
When lunch break came, Jason sat alone, staring at the coins in his pocket. Not much, but enough for groceries tonight. Enough to keep Sophie smiling at least one more day.
---
Back at Home
Sophie tried distracting herself. She drew another picture—this time of her and Jason holding hands, a little house behind them, and a sun bigger than the clouds. She placed it carefully on the dining table, waiting for him.
She cooked noodles clumsily, nearly burning her fingers. But she was determined. Jason deserved food too, not just her.
Every little sound outside made her glance at the door, her heart racing until she realized it wasn't him.
Finally, when Jason returned in the evening, exhausted and drenched in sweat, she was already waiting by the door. Her small smile lit his entire world.
"You're late," she scolded, arms crossed.
Jason chuckled weakly, dropping his bag. "I had to wrestle metal all day. Be proud of me."
Sophie ran forward and hugged him tightly. "I'm just glad you're home."
Jason closed his eyes, savoring the moment. The system could scream at him about stats and routines. The world could demand his strength. But right there, in that little hug, he remembered why he fought so hard.
---