WHERE THE LIGHT REMAINS

# Chapter One ## Xenia Monday mornings always feel too early. I stood in the kitchen staring at the pancake I had somehow managed to burn while thinking about three different things at once. "Oops," I muttered, poking it carefully with a spatula. It was definitely beyond saving. A small giggle sounded behind me. I turned and found Kira sitting on one of the kitchen stools, her little legs swinging happily beneath her. Her blonde hair was sticking up in every direction, making her look like she had fought a battle with her pillow and lost. "You burned it," she said. I gasped dramatically. "No." "You did." "No." "You did." I pointed the spatula at her. "Baby, are you calling me a liar?" She nodded without hesitation. "Yes." I pressed a hand over my chest. "My feelings are now very hurt." That only made her laugh harder. The sound instantly improved my mood. Kira always laughed with her whole heart. Children are funny like that. They do everything with their whole heart. They love with their whole heart, cry with their whole heart, and laugh with their whole heart. Sometimes I think adults forget how. I threw away the poor pancake and started making another one while Kira continued watching me like a tiny supervisor. After a few minutes she asked, "How many days until Daddy comes home?" "Four," I answered. She immediately frowned. "That is too many." "I know." "Can we make it faster?" I smiled despite myself. "If I knew how to make time faster, baby, I would become very rich." Kira thought about this seriously before nodding. "That's true." Mr. Winslie had been away in Russia for almost two months. Military work. I never asked for details because it was not my business. My mother always says that people create problems for themselves when they put their noses where they do not belong. So I simply focused on taking care of Kira while he was away. School, homework, meals, bath time, bedtime stories and occasional emergency cookie baking sessions whenever one of us had a difficult day. Kira jumped off the stool and ran into the living room. "I'm going to draw Daddy!" "Okay." "And you!" I laughed. "Why me?" "Because you're in the picture." A few minutes later I found her sprawled across the carpet with crayons scattered everywhere. She proudly showed me her drawing. There was a tall stick figure with dark hair, a tiny blonde stick figure and another figure with very long white hair. Me. "Very beautiful," I said. "I know." The confidence of children amazed me. Personally, I needed at least three business days before believing I had done anything correctly. My phone buzzed beside me. The smile slipped from my face when I saw my father's name on the screen. I opened the message and immediately felt the familiar tightness in my chest. Tuition. Bills. More expenses. More worries. Things had been difficult for my family for a long time now, which was one of the reasons I worked so hard. I wanted to help. I wanted to take some weight off my father's shoulders. I quickly locked my phone before Kira noticed. Unfortunately, Kira noticed everything. "Something is wrong." I blinked. "No." She narrowed her blue eyes suspiciously. I nearly laughed. She looked exactly like a tiny detective. "You're lying." "No, baby." "Yes." "No." "Yes." I sighed dramatically. "Why are you so smart?" She grinned. "I don't know." At least she was honest. The rest of the day passed peacefully. We built a blanket fort after lunch. When it collapsed on top of us, we built another one. When that one collapsed too, we built a third. It quickly became clear that neither of us had a future in architecture. By evening rain tapped softly against the windows while Kira colored beside me in the living room. The estate felt quiet but comfortable. Sometimes when Mr. Winslie was away, the house felt too large for just the two of us. Empty almost. "Nanny?" "Yes, baby?" "When Daddy comes back, can we make pancakes?" I stared at her. "The pancakes I burned?" She nodded. "Why?" A mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Because Daddy makes the same face every time." I knew exactly which face she meant. Mr. Winslie's famous look of disappointment. I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing. "Baby, that is not nice." Immediately Kira copied his serious expression. Her tiny eyebrows lowered and her little mouth flattened into a straight line. I nearly fell off the couch laughing. She pointed at me. "You do it too." "I do not." "You call him grumpy." My eyes widened. "Traitor." Kira burst into laughter. Outside, the rain continued falling. Inside, the house felt warm. For now everything was simple. Mr. Winslie would return on Friday. I would go to college tomorrow. Kira would continue creating chaos wherever she went. Life would continue exactly the way it always had. At least, that was what I believed.