CELESTE
I woke before the sun touched the rooftops of Montmartre, my eyes snapping open like they did every morning, searching for a danger that wasn't there. The name slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
"Clara Dupont."
My chest tightened. I hadn't been Clara in three years, but she still lived somewhere inside me, whispering in the dark. I turned my head on the pillow and found Luna curled beside me, her small body rising and falling with each peaceful breath. Her dark hair spread across the white pillowcase like ink in water. I watched her sleep, counting each breath like a prayer.
She's safe. She's here. She's mine.
The morning light crept through the curtains, painting everything gold. I didn't move. These moments, these quiet, stolen moments before the world woke up, they were sacred. Fragile. Like holding water in my hands, knowing it would slip through my fingers no matter how tightly I held on.
Luna's eyelids fluttered. "Maman?"
"I'm here, mon cœur." I brushed my fingers through her hair, and she smiled without opening her eyes.
"Pancakes?"
"Always pancakes."
She giggled, and the sound filled every dark corner of my chest. I would burn the world down to keep hearing that sound.
We moved through our morning routine like dancers who knew every step by heart. I measured flour while Luna dragged her stool to the counter, chattering about the dream she'd had—something about flying cats and chocolate rivers. I poured batter into the pan, watching it bubble and brown, then cut the finished pancakes into stars with a cookie cutter.
"One, two, three, four, five stars!" Luna counted, her finger hovering over each one.
"Five wishes," I said, sitting beside her at our tiny table.
"What should I wish for?" She looked up at me with those eyes—his eyes—dark and endless.
My throat closed. "Anything you want, baby."
"I wish we could stay here forever." She bit into a star, syrup dripping down her chin.
Forever. Such a big word for such a small mouth.
"Me too," I whispered, wiping her face with my thumb.
After breakfast, we dressed for our walk. Luna chose her yellow raincoat even though the sky was clear, insisting that puddles might appear. I didn't argue. I never argued about the small things anymore. The small things were all we had.
We stepped onto the cobblestone streets, mist still clinging to the buildings like ghosts refusing to leave. Our footsteps echoed through the narrow alleyways, and I held Luna's hand tighter than necessary.
"Maman, you're squishing my fingers," she complained.
"Sorry." I loosened my grip but didn't let go.
Nina's café sat on the corner where our street met the main square, its red awning bright against the gray morning. The bell chimed as we entered, and Nina looked up from behind the counter, her face breaking into that warm smile I'd grown to depend on.
"Mon Dieu, you're early!" she called out. "The croissants are still warm."
"We couldn't wait," I said, and it was true. This place, this safe, warm place that smelled of butter and coffee, had become our anchor.
Nina slid two croissants across the counter and poured me a coffee without asking. She knew. She always knew what I needed before I did.
"Luna, ma chérie, I saved you the chocolate one," Nina said, winking.
Luna bounced on her toes. "Merci, Tante Nina!"
We sat by the window, and I watched Luna eat while I pretended to drink my coffee. Really, I was watching the street. Always watching. Looking for faces that didn't belong, cars that slowed down too much, shadows that moved wrong.
"Can we go to the park today?" Luna asked, chocolate smeared across her cheek.
"Of course."
The park was three blocks away, tucked behind iron gates that squealed when I pushed them open. Luna ran ahead, her yellow coat a burst of sunshine against the green grass. Other children played on the swings, their mothers chatting on benches. Normal people living normal lives.
I sat on our usual bench, the wood worn smooth from countless mornings just like this one.
Luna ran in circles, her arms spread wide like wings. "Look, Maman! I'm flying!"
"I see you, baby!" I called back, my chest aching with a love so fierce it felt like dying.
She spun faster, laughing at the sky, and then…
She stumbled.
Not a normal stumble. Not a trip over her own feet or a rock in the grass. She went down hard, her knees hitting the ground, and when she pushed herself up, I saw it.
Her hand.
Her little right hand, shaking. Trembling like something inside her was breaking loose. The tremor was violent, uncontrollable, her tiny fingers jerking in ways fingers shouldn't move.
I was running before I realized I'd stood up.
"Luna!"
Three seconds. That's how long it lasted. Three seconds that felt like three hours, three years, three lifetimes. Then it stopped.
Luna stared at her hand, her eyes wide and confused. "Maman, what… what happened?"
I dropped to my knees in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"
"I don't know." Her voice was so small. "It felt funny. Like… like buzzing."
My blood turned to ice. Cold, sharp ice that cut through every vein in my body.
No. No, no, no.
"Let's go home," I said, pulling her to her feet.
"But we just got here…"
"Now, Luna."
I didn't let go of her hand the entire walk home. I couldn't. If I let go, she might disappear. She might shake apart. She might…
That night, I tucked her into bed early. She fell asleep quickly, exhausted from crying when I wouldn't tell her what was wrong. I sat beside her in the dark, watching her breathe, and waited for a sleep I knew wouldn't come.
When it finally dragged me under, the nightmare was waiting.
Not Jae-won. Not his fury or his fists or his promises to find us.
My father.
His voice cutting through smoke and flames: "Protect the work, Cee. Whatever happens, protect the work."
I woke up gasping, my arms wrapped around Luna's sleeping body, my face wet with tears.
The walls of our safe world weren't just cracking.
They were already broken.