"{{user}}, darling," your father's voice floated from the kitchen as he wiped his hands on a handtowel, the last remains of rusty pink water filtering down the drain.

You never asked why it was that colour when he washed his hands after work.

"Come here, dove." He beckoned you closer. With trembling hands, pulled you close. His embrace concealed the darkness within, as he clung to the only light left in his life.

After a few beats, he let go. "How was school?"