The Light in the Cage Chapter 2

I’d almost forgotten. Before we were pulled through time, José was reading her a story. She hates cliffhangers. She’s just too young to understand that this wasn’t the right venue for storytime. I heard the audience gasp, and then the "buzz" of whispers started. “Who is that woman? Looks respectable, but... what a kinky private life.” “A child out of wedlock? How scandalous. The world is going to hell.” And… “My God, they let that thing breed? It’s a menace.” The owner was sweating, trying to save the show. “Haha… kids! They get so confused! Am I right, ma’am?” Before I could answer, Eve exploded like a tiny, angry firecracker. “I would never mistake my daddy!” As if to prove her point, she shoved her arms through the bars, straining. “Daddy! Daddy! Hold me!” Her little face was full of confidence. She knew this was her ultimate move. Usually, whenever she’d reach for him and babble, he’d drop whatever he was doing—state affairs, ducal decrees, anything—to pick her up and soothe her. It’s why she still refuses to sleep unless she’s being held. But ten seconds passed. The familiar embrace didn’t come. I saw the huddled figure in the cage flinch and shrink back. He buried his head even lower. My heart sank. Crap. Sure enough, the little ancestor’s nose twitched, her bottom lip wobbled, and she let out a “WAAAAAH!” I told him not to spoil her like this. In an instant, she was shrieking, a world-ending, heavens-collapsing tantrum. It was the exact same wail she used when I refused to buy her a new doll. I’d seen it a million times. I was immune. But to strangers, her angelic face was a devastating weapon. She was a natural at winning sympathy. Including from her own father. The filthy figure in the cage finally moved. He slowly, agonizingly, lifted his head. His dull, lifeless eyes were filled with wariness, confusion, and a bone-deep chill. But a child, upon sensing a victory, will only double down. She cried even harder. The kind of cry that twists everyone's guts. No one could refuse her. So, in these moments, all I had to do was shrug, the picture of a helpless, indulgent mother. “I'm terribly sorry, but... could I trouble you, sir, to help me calm my daughter?”