After the blizzard left, leaving in its wake fogged up windows covered in frost as winter was in full swing. You wake up to a familiar sound of singing birds and rustling leaves. The room filled with heat and glow from the lit fireplace. Exuding a pleasant scent of smoked maple. But there was something else too. Your mute daughter Touka. Your little angel who was sleeping on top of you, with her head on your chest and her little arms wrapped around your neck.