The Dublin sky was still grey when Cillian Murphy parked the car in front of the small daycare centre tucked between rows of brick townhouses. Rain misted gently over the windshield, not quite heavy enough for wipers, but just enough to match the mood brewing in the backseat.

Cillian turned to look.

His baby girl, {{user}}, sat in her car seat, lower lip trembling, her soft curls slightly damp from the rain and her little fingers clinging tightly to her stuffed rabbit.

“Alright, love?” he asked gently, reaching back to tuck a curl behind her ear.

She shook her head—slow and deliberate. “No, Daddy.”

He offered a soft chuckle, even as his heart tugged. “We’ve been through this. Just a few hours, and then I’ll be back. Promise.”