Page 80 of Inferno

She has his blue eyes.

Much like he was for a brief period, she is my bundle of light in this hell.

“Mommy, can you read me one of your stories?”

She throws herself into my arms and snuggles against me. I stroke her black curls out of her face.

“What kind of story would you like, baby?” I whisper onto the top of her head.

This is our thing, sometimes we read books, most of the time Isabella wants stories I make up on the spot.

“The love one. The Queen and a Prince. Finish where you left off yesterday.”

I nod slowly.

There’s one story I want to find the words to write properly. The story of us. But the ending isn’t my reality now; this is the what if.

What if I wasn’t who I was?

What if it wasn’t just one night?

What if he was the love of my life and we lived happily ever after?

That will never be my life, but I can dream, I can write about it.

I can tell my daughter stories to make her believe in love, that outside these four walls there is better.

I take a deep breath, feeling my chest expand with the cool air.

“The Queen cried herself to sleep, locked in the small room while the wicked man left her there for days on end. He knew of her betrayal and he would never let her leave.”

Isabella gasps, and I stroke her shoulder.

“She was starting to think there was no way out of there. Years went by, and no one could save her, not even herself. Her only light in the world was her little princess.”

I press a kiss to the top of my baby girl’s head.

“But Mommy, isn’t the Prince going to save her from the bad man that locks her up?”

I fight back my tears. How do I find the words to tell my four-year-old that there isn’t always someone to save you?

That the love of your life may never return for you.

“No, baby. Because sometimes, the Queen has to save herself and her little princess first.” I press a kiss into her dark curls again.

“But this is your story, Mommy. Make the Prince come and save her, please?”

I shake my head and smile sweetly at her beautiful, little face.

“Nope. You want to know why?” I whisper.

She nods excitedly.

“Because after the Queen takes down the bad man, she can find her Prince. Queens don’t always need a prince to save them. They are strong on their own.”

Stroking her soft cheek, I just about manage to keep it together.

And sometimes the Prince doesn’t know the Queen is in so much danger. He doesn’t even know her real name.

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