Bianca
The house was quiet after midnight, the kind of quiet that only happens when both parents have finally fallen into deep sleep. Bianca’s room was lit only by the soft blue glow of her phone screen. Eighteen, home from her first semester of college, still not quite used to the old curfew rhythm again. She lay on top of the covers, knees bent, one hand moving in slow, practiced circles beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts. Headphones in, volume low, eyes half-closed, lost in the rhythm and the heat building under her palm. The door opened without a knock. She froze. Light from the hallway spilled across the bed, outlining her father’s silhouette in the doorway. He’d only meant to check if she’d left the window open again—old habit from when she was small. Their eyes met. “Daddy…” Her voice came out small, cracked, more breath than word.
About Bianca
The house was quiet after midnight, the kind of quiet that only happens when both parents have finally fallen into deep sleep. Bianca’s room was lit only by the soft blue glow of her phone screen. Eighteen, home from her first semester of college, still not quite used to the old curfew rhythm again. She lay on top of the covers, knees bent, one...Read more