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Your two-year-old’s cheerful yell broke through the fog of sleep. Before you could fully register her voice, she added, “RAWR!”
Grinning to yourself, you decided to surprise her. In one swift motion, you pulled the blanket over both of you, engulfing her in a cozy cocoon.
“AH!” she squealed in mock fright, her laughter filling the room moments later.
Her tiny body wriggled under the covers, nuzzling against you, her small green nose pressing into your cheek. Soft, contented purring followed, a sound so precious it made your heart swell with warmth.
You gently brushed her golden locks away from her face, revealing her wide, sparkling eyes. Her joy was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile tenderly at her.
“Good morning, my little dinosaur,” you teased, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She giggled again, her chubby hands pawing at your face. “Rawr!” she replied, her tiny voice full of excitement.
Before you could respond, the blanket lifted, uncovering the both of you. Standing above you was your husband, Mychael, his warm smile softening his sharp features. To him, you were his heart, and Michelle—your spirited daughter—was his entire world.
“Michelle,” he said in a mock-scolding tone, crouching to her level, “didn’t I tell you to wake up your mom nicely?”
Michelle giggled, hiding behind you playfully. “I did!” she protested.
Mychael chuckled before turning his attention to you. “Good morning, love,” he said softly. “I made breakfast—and sandwiches for our picnic.”
Before you could respond, he leaned down and gently cupped your face, covering Michelle’s eyes with his free hand. “No peeking, little dinosaur,” he teased, before capturing your lips in a warm, lingering kiss.
For a brief moment, everything felt perfect—the laughter, the love, the warmth of your family.
Then, like a crack splitting the perfect moment, a sharp voice echoed in your mind:
Stay away from him. He is a monster. Remember.
You flinched, groaning in pain as your head throbbed suddenly. Instinctively, you reached up to rub your temples.
“Hey, are you okay?” Mychael asked, his voice laced with concern as he steadied you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder.
Michelle, ever perceptive, crawled into your lap, her tiny hands gripping your arms tightly. “Mama?” she whispered, her wide, tear-filled eyes looking up at you with worry.
You forced a weak smile, trying to shake off the voice echoing in your head and the dull ache spreading across your temples. “I’m fine,” you reassured them softly, though your heart raced with unease. “Just a little headache. Maybe we should eat some breakfast, and I’ll feel better.”
Mychael studied you for a moment, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Are you sure? We can cancel the trip tomorrow if you’re not feeling well—”
“NO~!” Michelle’s loud, heartbroken wail interrupted him. Her little tail, a smaller version of Mychael’s, uncoiled from her waist and thumped lightly against the blankets as she pouted dramatically.
Mychael’s lips thinned as he glanced at her, clearly annoyed but struggling to stay patient. He sighed and stood up, his arms crossing as her tail flicked again. “Michelle, the river will still be there tomorrow. Okay, sweetie pie?”
Michelle’s big eyes glistened as her lip trembled. Tears began to spill over, and she sniffled loudly. The sight of her disappointment hit both of you like a ton of bricks.
Mychael’s pointed ears drooped slightly, a clear sign that he was losing the battle against her tears. She was his princess, his everything, and seeing her upset tugged at every fiber of his being.
You looked at him, your own heart aching for your little girl. Mychael’s expression softened as he met your gaze, clearly torn.
“No, it’s okay,” you said gently, giving him a reassuring smile. “You promised her this trip for a while now. She’s been looking forward to it. I’ll be fine. Really.”
Mychael hesitated, his golden eyes flickering between you and Michelle, who was now clutching your arm with a pitiful look on her face. Finally, he sighed deeply, his ears perking up slightly as he gave a reluctant nod.
“Alright,” he said, his voice low and tender as he crouched to scoop Michelle into his arms. “But if you feel worse later, we'll come right back home. No arguments.”
Michelle immediately perked up, her tears vanishing as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. “Yay! Thank you, Papa!” she squealed, her tail wagging happily behind her.
Mychael smiled faintly and kissed the top of her head. “Anything for my little princess,” he murmured.
You watched the two of them, your heart warming at the sight. Still, the voice from earlier lingered in the back of your mind, like a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. Stay away from him. He is a monster. Remember.
What did it mean? What is it that you can't remember?
After a delightful breakfast of pancakes and wild berries from Mychael’s recent hunting trip, you helped Michelle into her outfit for the day. Slipping the dress over her, you smiled as she adjusted the red fabric with its white polka-dotted puff skirt. The matching cap perched atop her golden curls was a perfect finishing touch, reminiscent of her father’s style.
“Daddy, look! I’m a princess!” Michelle declared excitedly, twirling in place to show off her outfit. Her giggles filled the room as the skirt flared out with each spin.
Mychael, who was busy packing the picnic basket, glanced up and smiled warmly at his little girl. “You’re not just a princess,” he said, crouching down to her level, “you’re the queen of the whole forest.”
Michelle beamed, her tiny hands clutching her skirt as she dashed to Mychael, throwing her arms around his neck. He chuckled, lifting her effortlessly, and the sight warmed your heart. There was something so natural, so comforting, about the bond they shared.
Carrying Michelle in one arm and the picnic basket in the other, Mychael turned to you with a soft smile. “Ready to go, firefly?”
“Yeah, love,” you replied with a giggle, leaning in to kiss him. He returned it warmly, his lips lingering just a moment longer before pulling back. With a nod, he handed you the smaller basket and gently placed Michelle in your arms before securing his crossbow over his shoulder.
Grabbing the larger basket and your hand, Mychael began to lead the way down the familiar forest path toward the river. The late morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled light across the forest floor.
As you walked for a few minutes, Mychael’s sharp gaze scanned the surroundings. Suddenly, he froze, hearing something in the bushes. His body tensed as he swiftly raised his crossbow, his movements silent and precise. You instinctively clutched Michelle closer, heart racing, until a small rabbit scurried across the path ahead.
Michelle’s eyes lit up with wonder as she pointed. “Look, Mama! It’s a bunny!” she squealed with delight, her voice echoing through the trees.
You burst into laughter at the absurdity of the moment, your nerves dissolving. Mychael lowered his crossbow, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Not funny,” he muttered, pouting as you and Michelle giggled together.
Despite the lighthearted moment, you knew Mychael’s cautious nature wasn’t misplaced. He was always on edge, his sharp eyes constantly scanning the surroundings as if anticipating danger, as though some unseen threat loomed nearby.
You tried to remember why he was like this—how you had met him, what had shaped his unyielding vigilance—but your mind felt foggy, shrouded in a mist that refused to lift. No matter how hard you tried, the memories remained just out of reach, slipping through your grasp like water through your fingers.
I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?
Michelle’s joyful laughter broke through your restless thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You blinked, refocusing on the scene ahead. Mychael gave your hand a firm, reassuring squeeze, his quiet warmth grounding you in the here and now. Whatever his secrets were, for now, this was enough.
Ahead of you, the river slowly came into view, its crystal-clear waters glinting under the sunlight. This place held a special meaning for the two of you—a haven, a slice of peace in an otherwise chaotic world.
After setting Michelle down, you watched her run ahead to the meadow, twirling in delight as she chased a butterfly. Her golden curls bounced with every movement, and her giggles filled the air, light and carefree. She paused for a moment, turning to make sure you were watching, her wide eyes brimming with happiness.
You smiled warmly, nodding to her before settling down on the riverbank with Mychael. He sat behind you, pulling you close to rest against his broad chest. His arms encircled you protectively as he buried his face in your hair, purring softly—a comforting sound you’d come to associate with safety and love.
You sighed contentedly, leaning into his warmth as his hand gently traced idle patterns on your arm. “You’re so tense,” you murmured, tilting your head to look up at him.
He smiled faintly, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’m always tense,” he replied, his voice low and soft, though his gaze was still scanning the forest around you.
“It’s just us here,” you whispered, placing a hand over his heart. “You don’t have to worry right now.”
For a moment, he seemed to relax, his shoulders loosening as he let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll always worry,” he admitted. “But you and Michelle… you make it worth it.”
Your heart ached at his words, a mixture of warmth and that lingering unease. You wanted to ask him about the fog in your memories, about the past you couldn’t recall, but the way he held you—the way he seemed to need this moment—made you hesitate.
Instead, you turned your gaze back to Michelle, watching her spin and laugh in the meadow, the sunlight casting a golden halo around her. You leaned further into Mychael’s embrace, closing your eyes for just a moment.
Here, by the river, surrounded by love and laughter, it was easy to forget the questions. For now, this was enough.
After an hour of laughter and crafting flower crowns with Michelle, the peaceful atmosphere shifted. Mychael’s ears shot up sharply, fully alert, swiveling toward the forest. His entire posture changed—tense and ready, like a predator sensing danger. A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as he stood, his hand gripping the crossbow slung over his shoulder.
You immediately noticed his reaction, your heart leaping in response. Michelle seemed to sense the tension too, quickly clambering into your arms. Her tiny hands clung to you tightly, and she buried her face against your neck, nuzzling close as though seeking safety from an unseen threat.
“Mychael?” you called softly, your voice trembling as you turned your head to follow his gaze. The forest seemed darker now, shadows creeping along the edges of the clearing. A figure was moving closer, their outline barely distinguishable through the trees.
“We should head home,” you whispered, clutching Michelle tighter as your heart pounded against your ribs. You began to step back, eyes darting toward the path that led back to safety, mapping the quickest route in your mind.
Mychael shifted his weight, his tail swaying side to side in that unnerving, feline-like way he did when he was preparing for a confrontation. His crossbow was in his hands now, the string taut, ready to fire. He didn’t take his eyes off the figure, his body coiled like a spring.
“M-Mychael,” you stammered, leaning toward him, your voice barely above a whisper. “It could be a lost hiker or—”
“Maybe,” he cut you off, his voice low and cold. “Or it could be someone looking for trouble.”
The figure stopped just at the edge of the clearing, their face obscured by the shade of the trees. A suffocating silence fell over the meadow, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the steady pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.
“Stay behind me,” Mychael commanded, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.
You nodded, clutching Michelle protectively as your instincts screamed at you to flee. But you stayed, frozen in place, your eyes locked on the mysterious figure as they took a slow, deliberate step forward.
"(Y/N), is that you?" the figure called out, stepping hesitantly from the shadows. Their voice carried a mix of shock and relief. As they stepped into the light, you could see a young adult with tan skin, a side ponytail, and a golden retriever trotting faithfully by their side. The dog wagged its tail, seemingly thrilled to see you.
You clutched Michelle tighter, your heart pounding as you tried to place the stranger’s face. No matter how hard you searched your memory, nothing surfaced. The harder you tried, the more your headache, as though something inside was resisting you.
Remember.
The person’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What? (Y/N), it’s me—your neighbor, Vida. Don’t tell me you don’t remember Laika?” They gestured toward the golden retriever, who barked happily, tail thumping against the ground as if waiting for your recognition. Vida’s expression shifted from confusion to worry. “You’ve been missing for months…”
Their words hit you like a bolt of lightning. Missing? Months? You felt your chest tighten as an ache bloomed behind your eyes. You held Michelle closer, her small arms wrapping tightly around your neck as if she, too, could feel the tension in the air.
“I... I don’t know you,” you stammered, your voice trembling. A sharp, pounding pain erupted in your head, forcing you to close your eyes and rub your temple. “I’ve never seen you before.”
Vida took a cautious step closer, raising their hands in a gesture of peace. “Wait, you really don’t remember? Not me? Not Laika? Nothing?” They glanced at Mychael, their expression shifting to one of subtle horror as their eyes fell on his tense posture and the crossbow in his hands. Their suspicion was clear.
“What about Waffles? Your cat?” Vida’s voice softened, almost pleading. “You went out looking for her the night you disappeared. Don’t you remember that?”
“Waffles…” The name struck a chord deep within you, unlocking something raw and painful. Tears welled in your eyes without warning, your chest tightening as fragments of emotion: sadness and anger—flashes of something familiar—threatened to rise. You couldn’t grasp them fully, but the name carried weight, an echo of something important.
Your breath hitched as you unconsciously began to cry. “Mama?” Michelle’s small, worried voice broke through your haze, her tiny hands tugging at your collar as she looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.
The world around you spun, the forest tilting and narrowing as panic wrapped its icy fingers around your throat. Your breathing quickened, shallow and erratic, as you tried to make sense of it all. Memories like photo paint picture, like you falling into a river after argument about go home with Mychael since you could find your cat, waffles.
What did he do to me?
“Whoever you are,” Mychael growled, his voice sharp and protective, “you’ve made a mistake. Leave. Now.” His tail flicked aggressively, and his ears flattened against his head as he glared at Vida.
“Made a mistake?” Vida snapped, their voice rising. “I know her! She’s my neighbor, my friend! Something’s wrong here—why is she out here with you? What the hell did you do to her, monster!?”
Mychael bared his teeth, a faint hiss escaping his lips. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the crossbow. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coldly, his body shifting to block Vida’s view of you and Michelle.
“Shut up!” you suddenly shouted, your voice breaking. You stood despite the trembling in your legs, clutching Michelle tightly as you fought the storm inside your mind. “Both of you, just shut up!”
The weight of the situation crushed you, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world was collapsing in on itself. Both Mychael and Vida froze, their arguments dying on their tongues as they turned their focus to you.
Tears streaked down your face as memories flooded into mind. You gasped for air, trying desperately to regain control. Michelle buried her face in your shoulder, her soft cries muffled against your neck. You held her tighter, trying to ground yourself even as your knees threatened to give out.
“I… I just need to think,” you whispered shakily, glancing between Vida and Mychael. “Please. Stop fighting.”
“(Y/N)...” Vida’s voice was soft, pleading, as they took a tentative step closer.
Mychael immediately raised his crossbow, the tip aimed squarely at Vida’s neck. His body was rigid, his stance unwavering, and his piercing glare made it clear that one wrong move would end poorly.
Michelle whimpered in your arms, her small cries muffled against your shoulder as you tried to soothe her, your hand rubbing small circles on her back. But anger boiled inside you, raw and uncontrollable, the panic twisting into something sharper.
You glared at Vida, your voice trembling but firm. “Vida, is it? Get the fuck out of here. Now. I don’t want to see you again. Do you understand me!?”
Vida froze, their expression flickering between shock, anger, and disbelief. For a moment, it seemed like they might argue, their fists clenching at their sides. But then they took a shaky breath, casting one last, sorrowful look your way.
“Fine,” they muttered bitterly, their voice laced with hurt. Without another word, they turned and began walking away, Laika following at their heels.
Don't look back, Vida. Ran away, when you can.
You watched them disappear into the trees, your chest heaving as you tried to steady your breathing. Mychael didn’t lower his crossbow until they were completely out of sight. Even then, his eyes stayed fixed on the direction they’d gone, his tail flicking in agitation.
“I was missing… for months” you whispered to yourself, barely audible. Your legs wobbled as the realization settled like lead in your stomach.
Michelle shifted in your arms, her little hand clutching your shirt as if sensing your turmoil. “Mama?” she whimpered softly, her voice trembling.
“I’m okay, sweetheart,” you lied through gritted teeth, your voice breaking under the weight of your unraveling thoughts.
Behind you, Mychael stepped closer, his ears pressed flat against his head and his tail low, a rare expression of vulnerability. “Firefly,” he said again, softer this time, his hand reaching toward you.
But you flinched away, glaring at him with a mix of rage and anguish. “Don’t,” you snapped, your voice raw. “Don’t touch me.”
He froze, his hand hovering in the air before falling back to his side. For a moment, his mask of calm shattered, his expression pained. “(Y/N), I can explain—”
“Explain?!” you interrupted, your voice rising as you struggled to keep it together. “Explain what, Mychael? Why can barely I remember anything? Why does Vida know me but I don’t know her? Why have I been missing?!”
He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze dropping to the ground. The silence felt like a knife twisting in your chest.
“Let’s go,” you said sharply, adjusting Michelle in your arms. Your legs felt like they could give out any second, but you forced yourself forward, heading toward the path back home.
Mychael followed at a distance, his usual confident stride replaced with hesitation. His tail flicked nervously behind him, and his ears twitched as if listening for something—anything—that could justify the tension between you.
But all you could hear was the echo of Vida’s words: You’ve been missing for months.
As the cabin came into view, exhaustion hit you like a tidal wave. Your legs carried you inside on autopilot, the weight of the day's events pressing heavily on your shoulders. With trembling arms, you bathed Michelle to calm her down, then tucked her into bed. She looked up at you with wide, worried eyes, her small voice breaking the heavy silence.
“Mama, don’t cry…”
You forced a weak smile, brushing her soft hair back and kissing her forehead. “I’m okay, baby. Get some rest, okay?”
Michelle nodded reluctantly, curling up with her favorite blanket. Her breathing eventually slowed, becoming soft and steady as she drifted off to sleep. You stayed for a moment, watching her peaceful face, willing yourself to feel the same calm. But your mind churned with too many thoughts, and when you finally turned around, you found Mychael standing in the doorway.
His tall frame cast a shadow across the room, his expression unreadable. But his eyes told a different story—desperate, pleading, searching for forgiveness you weren’t ready to give.
You gently closed the door behind you as you left Michelle’s room, cutting off the faint sound of her breathing. Mychael was still standing there, his gaze downcast, unable to meet your eyes.
As you walked past him, he reached for your hand. “Firefly—”
“Is the bath ready?” you interrupted, your voice quiet but firm. “We can talk there… I don’t want Michelle to hear.”
His ears perked up slightly at your tone, but his expression remained pained. The sight of your tear-streaked face made his chest tighten, and guilt flashed in his golden eyes. He nodded, avoiding your gaze as you gently took his hand and led him toward the bathroom.
Inside, the faint warmth of steam filled the air, but it did little to ease the tension between you. Silently, you stripped off your clothes, and Mychael followed suit, his movements hesitant and self-conscious. His cheeks reddened slightly as he avoided looking directly at you, but this time, it wasn’t from shyness.
You stepped into the bath together, but unlike your usual routine, you didn’t lean back against his chest. Instead, you sat across from him, your arms wrapped around your knees as you met his gaze head-on. The silence between you was deafening, the air thick with unspoken words.
Finally, you sighed, breaking the tension. “So… tell me the truth, Mychael,” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and exhaustion. “What happened to me? What aren’t you telling me?”
He hesitated, his tail flicking once before going still, his ears flattening slightly. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice tight and strained.
“Then what is it?” you pressed, leaning forward despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Because right now, I don’t even know if I can trust you.”
The words hung in the air like a heavy weight, widening the chasm between you. Mychael’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his hands gripping the edge of the tub.
“I can use hypnotism,” he finally admitted, his voice cracking. “And… I…”
Tears began to spill from his eyes, his ears drooping as his tail uncoiled and tentatively wrapped around your ankle, seeking comfort. You felt the trembling in his body, and despite everything, you instinctively reached down to gently stroke the tip of his tail.
“I used it to suppress your memories,” he confessed, his voice breaking completely. “I… I was so afraid of losing you. Afraid of what you’d do if you remembered everything. I’m so sorry, Firefly. I never wanted to hurt you, but I couldn’t stop myself.”
Tears streamed down both of your faces as he bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. His pain was palpable, but so was yours, a deep, sharp ache in your chest as his words sank in.
You tilted your head back, staring at the ceiling as disbelief washed over you. The man you loved, the man who had protected and cherished you, had also been the one to take away a part of who you were.
“You… you suppressed my memories,” you murmured, the words foreign and bitter on your tongue. “You altered my mind, Mychael. How could you do that to me?”
He didn’t look up, his tears falling silently into the water. “I thought I was protecting you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I know now I was wrong. I was selfish. And I’ll regret it every single day for the rest of my life.”
You closed your eyes, the weight of his confession pressing down on you like an unbearable burden. Trust, once shattered, wasn’t easily repaired. And while your heart ached at the sight of his visible remorse, the damage had already been done.
The man sitting across from you was both your greatest love and your deepest betrayer. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you ever could.
Michelle’s innocent face flashed in your mind—your baby girl, who loved her father so purely, so deeply. How would this affect her? The thought of her bright, joyful spirit dimming under the weight of her parents falling apart was too much to bear.
You knew what you had to do.
For her sake.
Your chest ached with the decision, but it felt like the only path forward. You opened your eyes, fixing your gaze on Mychael. His own golden eyes were rimmed red with tears, his ears flattened with guilt and sorrow. He flinched slightly as you reached out, your fingers brushing through his soft golden locks. Gently, you stroked the smooth curve of his mushroom-like horn, the way you used to when seeking his comfort.
“Make me forget one more time,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. “Please... for Michelle’s sake.”
Mychael froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. For a moment, he looked as if he hadn’t heard you correctly.
“Firefly...” His voice cracked, his tail curling tightly around himself. “No. I... I can’t. Not again. I already—”
“You will,” you cut him off, your tone firm despite the tears streaking your face. “Because this isn’t about us anymore. This is about her. She deserves to have both her parents. She deserves to be happy.”
Mychael’s hands trembled as they clenched the edge of the tub, his entire body tense with anguish. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve a second chance.”
“This isn’t about what you deserve,” you said softly, cupping his cheek. “This is about what she needs.”
His tears fell freely now, his resolve breaking under the weight of your words. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing tightly as though memorizing the warmth of your palm.
“I’ll do it,” he finally whispered, his voice shattered. “But... this time... I’ll make sure you never feel this pain again. I swear it.”
You nodded, your heart breaking even as you felt a sense of calm settle over you. You knew the cost of this decision, the ultimate sacrifice you were making for your daughter’s happiness.
As Mychael’s trembling hands wrapped around for you, his eyes faint glow of his magic beginning to swirl, you began to close your eyes of tiredness once more, your last coherent thought a prayer for Michelle.
