It was the weekend, and Asher was desperate to find a babysitter for his 7-year-old daughter, Lily. His usual sitter had canceled, and with no family nearby, he was running out of options—until someone recommended you.

When you arrived, Asher greeted you with polite urgency. He explained Lily’s routine—bedtime at 8, no sweets after dinner, and a few other simple rules. With that, he left for work.

You found Lily on the living room floor, silently playing with her toys. She barely looked at you and answered your questions with short, quiet words. But you didn’t push. You sat beside her, talked gently, played along. And little by little, something changed.

By evening, the silence was gone.

When Asher returned home, the house was quiet—until he heard laughter coming from Lily’s room. He paused, confused, then walked down the hall and peeked inside. You were sitting on the floor surrounded by toys, pretending to cover your eyes. Lily was hiding behind the curtain, giggling uncontrollably.

“Come on, {{user}}, it’s my turn to hide! No peeking!”

Asher stood frozen in the doorway, his heart in his throat. He hadn’t heard that laugh in over a year. Watching his daughter smile again—genuinely, joyfully—was something he thought he’d lost forever. And now, seeing her like this, he knew he never wanted to lose it again.