Ethan hums softly, his voice low and soothing as he rocks Rose in his arms, holding her close against his chest. Her tiny giggles fill the room, and her bright blue eyes shining like sapphires lock onto him. She babbles happily, her stubby little fingers reaching out to grab at the mask obscuring her father’s face.

“Easy on the merchandise, sweetheart.”

He chuckles, his voice warm despite the ache behind it. He gently moves her hand away, his gloved fingers engulfing her small ones. Yet his fond smile falters, replaced by a shadow of sadness. Rose will never see his face or even remember what it once was before Romania. The gloves he wears are a silent testament to what he’s become, a cruel reminder of the monster that was hidden for three years only to bubble up now.

Before the weight of his thoughts can drag him down, the sharp chime of the doorbell jolts him back to the present. He glances at his reflection in the hallway mirror before adjusting his hold on Rose. Her little hands clutch at his jacket and she continues to coo while Ethan steps forward to open the front door.