A/N: This chapter was originally written by @earth_angel17; I just turned it into Viette's POV. :)

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╰┈➤ "𝒟𝒶𝒹𝒹𝓎?" 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝓉𝓁𝓎, 𝓅𝑒𝑒𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝓇. My father looked up at me, his expression shifting to something between happiness and sadness. It was like seeing me reminded him of Mom in a way that hurt, but also comforted him.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his collar, offering me a small smile. "Yeah?"

I stepped inside and stood near his desk. "Can you tell me another story about Mommy?"

He swallowed hard, and I could see him thinking. Slowly, he nodded and motioned for me to come over. "C'mere," he said gently.

I climbed onto his lap, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me securely. He kissed my cheek, and his warm breath tickled my neck, making me giggle.

"The story?" I reminded him, settling comfortably against him.

He chuckled softly and bounced me on his knee. "Of course. What do you want to hear about?"

"It's Christmas Eve," I said, glancing at the little decorations he had put up. "What did you guys do on Christmas?"

A warm smile appeared on his face as he adjusted his hold on me. "Your mother loved Christmas. Every year on Christmas Eve, we'd exchange one present and save the rest for the next morning." He paused for a moment before continuing. "And every year, she'd ask me to play our song before going to bed."

"What was 'your song'?" I asked curiously.

He smiled a little wider, nudging me playfully. "You should know that by now. It was 'You Are My Sunshine.'"

"Why that one?"

He went quiet for a moment, and I felt him take a deep breath. "Because I used to call your mom my sunshine. She thought it was a little silly, but I told her it was because she lit up my day. She still does."

"But now she's dead," I said softly, not meaning to upset him.

His smile faltered slightly, and he cleared his throat. "I wouldn't say so," he said after a moment. "I still feel her with us. Every day. I'm sure she watches over the both of us and loves you very much. I just wish we had a little more time with her."

I reached up and patted his face with my small hand, hoping it might make him feel better. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I just wish Mom was here."

He held me closer and nodded. "Me too, love. I miss her every day."

We sat in silence for a while, but it wasn't an empty silence. I could feel it, the way we both missed her. It felt like she was still with us in some way, even if she wasn't here the way we wanted.

After some time, he shifted and reached under his desk. "I meant to give this to you tomorrow," he said, pulling out a neatly wrapped present tied with brown string. "But I think Mom would have wanted you to have it early."

My eyes lit up as I took the present, carefully unwrapping it. Inside was a wooden kalimba, smooth and polished. I recognized it right away. "But this is like, your favorite thing..." I said, looking up at him.

"It is," he said with a small, sad smile. He plucked a few random notes, the sound soft and familiar. "But I figured it was time to pass this down to my favorite girl." He tapped my nose lightly, making me giggle.

"Thank you," I said, holding it close to my chest.

"You're very welcome," he replied.

I hopped off his lap and ran to my room, carrying the kalimba carefully. Once inside, I sat on my bed and started plucking random notes. The sound was gentle, but my thoughts were heavy.

As I played, I thought about him, sitting alone in his office. He missed her so much, and I missed her too, even though I'd never really known her very well. It wasn't fair. I wished she could be here with us.

I looked down at the kalimba in my hands. I didn't know how I would do it, but one day, I was going to make things better. For him and for me. For both of us.