A Quiet Child
Sophia, her daughter of twelve, was sitting with a math book and looking at fractions. She had her father’s golden hair, a perfect academic record, and was attractive and courteous.
“My dear, what’s the matter?” Emily inquired.
Sophia gestured toward the page, but her gaze strayed to her mother’s wrist, where a sleeve had fallen up, revealing tiny stains. Emily forced a bright smile as she pulled it down.
“Ah, fractions! Let’s see.
Sophia remained silent. She had become more reserved in recent months, withdrawing to her room after school. Adolescence is normal, Emily told herself. It was too difficult to think of anything else.
When Michael’s car pulled into the driveway at six o’clock in the evening, the house shook with tension.
“I’m home!” he called.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Emily answered, straightening her apron.
Michael loosened his tie, surveying the room. “Sophia, homework finished?”
“Yes, Dad. Mom helped me.”
“Good girl,” he said, patting her head like property.
Dinner was a ritual. Michael held court, recounting his sales triumphs and upcoming promotion. Emily and Sophia listened in silence.
“How was the supermarket, Emily?” His voice sharpened.
“Just the usual.”
“Good. You’re careful. But I hear even part-time women have affairs these days.”
Sophia’s fork clattered against her plate.
“Are you alright, sweetie?” Emily asked quickly.
“Sorry,” Sophia mumbled.
After dinner, Michael watched TV while Emily washed dishes. Sophia disappeared upstairs. Later, Emily ventured, “Sophia seems a bit down lately.”
“It’s adolescence,” Michael said flatly. “Just keep an eye on her.”
Emily nodded. Michael was always “right.”
That night, when Emily peeked into Sophia’s room, her daughter asked quietly, “Mom, are you happy?”
The question hit like a slap. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
Sophia hesitated. “It’s nothing. Goodnight.”
Emily shut the door, the question echoing in her head. This family was happy. Michael was a good husband. The neighbors said so. She brushed her hair without meeting her own eyes in the mirror, then buttoned her long-sleeved pajamas. Smile. Always smile.
