The warm light of the sun entered through the window as Penelope stood before her child, {{user}}, drying their damp locks with a soft cloth.

The scent of olive oil soap lingered in the air, mixing with the salt breeze from the open window. The child wiggled slightly, giggling as the cloth tickled their nose.

“Mommy,” {{user}} asked, their voice soft and curious, “what does Daddy look like?”

Penelope paused, her hands stilling for a moment as the question hung in the quiet room. She swallowed, her gaze drifting to the horizon sea over the window. Four years had passed since Odysseus had left for Troy, four years since she had last seen his face. Her memory was starting to get fuzzy and distant.

“He has a beard?” {{user}} prompted, their bright eyes searching hers. “Or... maybe big hands?”

Penelope smiled faintly, her fingers brushing their cheek. “He didn't have when he left,” she said softly, though the image of him felt blurred in her mind.

“But…” Her voice faltered as she realized the details had faded. She could no longer recall the exact shade of his eyes or the curve of his smile.

Guilt and longing hurt her chest. She placed the cloth aside, cupping {{user}}’s face gently, her own expression softening.

“He looks like you, my love,” she whispered, kissing their forehead.