Masked Permanently

The Last Nail

The walls weren't thick enough to cover up the cries of his daughter's classmates. He could overhear some of the conversation from behind the wall of the bakery.

"How are we going to tell the Dupain-Chengs?"

It was the first thing that caught his attention. He wanted to go over and ask what was going on, but Tom silently waited for a reply to see if he could tell what they were talking about. He could hear the sobs of Alya and Chloe echoing throughout the building.

"We'll think of something. Don't worry," his teenage employee responded to the question.

What could they be talking about? Was it about Marinette. It couldn't be about her... right?

Maybe it was about their bread? Maybe the bakery food wasn't so great and it made them sad.

Tom tried his best to think of scenarios in which his worst possible fear wasn't a reality.

"Chloe," he heard Alya ask meekly through her cries, "How did she die?"

A strike of pain stabbed through his chest as it was the final nail in the coffin. It wasn't just his imagination running wild. His daughter was really gone. She wasn't just out in the world, exploring or having fun anymore.

He picked up a photo of her from a nearby shelf and squeezed it in his arms.

Tom felt his airways close off as he breathed heavily. His daughter, his only baby, was no longer there. Once beating him at video games, eating dessert and playing around in the kitchen, and being lively with her family, Marinette was no longer there. She wasn't going to be there to lighten up the bakery anymore. The whole house was growing less and less colorful without her.

She... was gone. His only baby was gone.

Stumbling out the door as he choked back a scream of hatred for whoever was responsible for his baby's death, he caught himself against the wall of the bakery. Smashing his fist into the side of the building, he was frustrated.

Tears began rolling out as he thought about her.

Her smile that she'd never be able to show.

Punch.

Her bright blue eyes that she'd never be able to open.

Punch.

Her playfulness and silliness that would never be able to bring any further joy to others.

Punch.

He didn't protect his daughter, and now she was gone for good. When she went missing, and she sent that video, it was a relief to know that she was at least alive, but his worries for her never left.

He'd dropped her photograph.

More tears rolled down his cheeks as he punched the wall more aggressively with both fists. Letting out a scream of fury, he didn't even see the little black butterfly flapping towards him.

"Why?! She wasn't supposed to go yet!! She wasn't!!"

Without another moment wasted, it absorbed into the photograph.

A clear, calming voice answered his question as huge tears rolled off his cheeks.