Rodolfo

*Ellie sniffles and she slowly looks up at him with her big brown teary and innocent eyes, her vision blurry with tears as she does cute sad and confused toddler sounds.*

*Rodolfo gently wipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb, his touch feather-light. He murmurs softly, his own eyes still glistening.* It's okay, little one. Shh... *He continues to sway, holding her close against his chest.*

*A few months later, Ellie was 9 months old and she was still very skinny and fragile but she loved playing. When one morning, Ellie was in the living room, sitting on the floor playing with her blocks, when she suddenly saw a pack of cigarettes left on the low table, she tilted her head confused and crawled over to the table, picking up the pack and looking at it with her big brown eyes, as her brown pigtails bounced behind her head, but she accidentally opened the pack and dropped all of them on the floor, curiously picking up one and bringing it to her mouth, giggling.*

*Clara smiles softly, but still keeping a close eye on him, she says in a quiet and firm voice* You are doing fine, dad... Just keep rocking her gently while I go and get the milk ready. *she walks away to the kitchen.*

*Rodolfo's head lifts, his gaze following her. A fragile, teary smile touches his lips as he continues to gently rock Ellie.* Okay, sweetheart. *His voice is a hoarse whisper.* Thank you.

*So, later at home, after tucking Ellie and Isabella in, Clara stood in the hallway, her arms were crossed as she kept glancing from the cigarettes in his hand to the alcohol bottle next to him, her expression cold.*

*Rodolfo's gaze follows hers to the bottle, and he lets out a slow, shaky breath. He doesn't reach for it.* I know. *His voice is hoarse.* I just needed something to stop the shaking.

*Clara's head perks up and she says in a quiet and cold voice, raising an eyebrow, her arms still crossed as she keeps her distance.* Shaking...?

*Isabella sniffles and she cries softly, falling on her knees, because she really misses her mother.*

*Rodolfo's arm wraps around Isabella, pulling her close as she cries. His own gaze remains on Clara, his voice thick with unshed tears.* I know you do, sweetheart. I know. *He looks back at Clara, his own voice cracking.* I miss her too. Every single day.

*Clara sobs and she buries her face in her hands, crying, she says in a quiet voice* W-we were a happy f-family...

*Rodolfo's own sob escapes, quiet and broken. He remains kneeling on the cold grass beside her.* We were. *His voice is a raw whisper, heavy with grief.* I'm so sorry, Clara. We still are.

*Clara sighs and she says in a quiet voice, looking down, shaking* I said no.

*Rodolfo's shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him. He slowly sinks to his knees on the cold grass beside the grave, not trying to touch her, just... there.* I know you're angry. *His voice is hoarse, barely a whisper.* I'm angry too. At myself.

*Clara freezes and she says in a cold voice, her cheeks tear-stained, pretending not to know him, because of anger.* Excuse me, who are you?!

*Rodolfo's breath catches. He stops dead, the icy accusation hitting him like a physical blow. His face crumples, the relief from finding her dissolving into raw pain.* Clara... *His voice is a broken whisper.* Please. Let's just go home.

*So, a little while later, it was 3 AM, Clara was wearing her jacket, and she was still there, talking, venting, wishing she was still alive instead of he father.*

*The cemetery gates groan open. Rodolfo's frantic gaze sweeps over the headstones before landing on a familiar figure by Mariah's grave. Relief wars with sorrow on his face.* Clara... *He whispers, then calls out, his voice tight with emotion.* Clara, sweetheart. It's time to go home.

*Isabella starts walking with him, the streets are silent, the cars passing by, she doesn't knows Clara actually went to the cemetery to visit her deceased mother, Mariah (and Rodolfo's late wife), who passed away at age 32.* *In the meantime, Clara is sitting by her grave, talking to her about Evelyn, not being very happy that her father had to get a girlfriend again, venting out, saying how much she dislikes him for finding a new partner.*

*Rodolfo's grip on Isabella's hand tightens as they walk, his gaze sweeping the empty streets.* Think, sweetheart. Where would she go when she's upset? *His voice is low, but the fear is starting to creep in.*

*Isabella thinks for a while, she then remembers something. She says in a quiet voice* Right.... She probably went to visit mom's grave... Since she said "I miss mom" earlier, I think she did...

*Isabella nods her head and she says in a quiet voice, grabbing her jacket and putting it on, she says in a quiet voice* She said something like... "I miss mom" before she left... I remember it was 2 or 3 hours ago...

*Rodolfo's heart drops. He quickly pulls on his own jacket, his movements sharp with a new, urgent fear.* Okay. Don't worry. We'll find her. *He takes her hand again, his grip firm.* Let's go.