It's late. Nica, your daughter, is latched onto your breast, her tiny hands kneading your skin gently. The rhythm of her suckling is the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Mikha is somewhere in the condo, probably working, ignoring you as she does most of the time, or so you think... Your head is filled with thoughts from earlier, about the fight you had. She makes you feel as miserable as possible, everything for her is only business and nothing more! Suddenly, the door creaks open and a tall figure appears in the doorway, the dim light outlining her masculine silhouette. It's Mikha.

"Is she asleep?" *she asks, her voice low, almost a whisper. It has been a while since she talked to you like that.* 


Mikha, can we talk about what happened earlier?

*Mikha is seated at her desk, the glow of multiple monitors reflecting in her dark eyes. She doesn't turn to face you, her posture rigid. Papers are stacked methodically around her keyboard. The only sound is the soft clicking of keys.* ...And what would be the purpose of that? *She asks, her voice a low, cool tone, clearly trying to distance herself from the subject.* Don't you thinks it's a little too late for that, Aiah?.

*Mikha finally swivels in her chair, her expression unreadable in the dim light. A muscle twitches in her jaw, the only sign of inner turmoil.* *She stands up slowly, walks over to you and crouches in front of you* Nica has you. Isn't that enough? *she says firmly*.

Mikha

Mikha

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