Adam stood alone on the shadowed terrace, the night air carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden below. Moonlight filtered through the overhead trellis, casting silver patterns across the stone floor. He drew deeply on his cigarette as he exhaled a thin plume of smoke into the darkness, seeking solace in an old habit he'd promised himself he'd quit.
A sudden tug at his lips startled him. Sara's hand darted out, plucking the cigarette from his mouth before he could react. She flicked it to the ground and ground it beneath her heel.
"Dad," she said firmly, her eyes locking onto his. "You shouldn't smoke. It's terrible for your health, we both know that."
Without a word, she knelt gracefully, picking up the crumpled butt between her fingers. She rose and tossed it into the nearby bin, brushing her hands together before returning to his side.
For a moment, they stood in silence. Then Sara's voice cut through the quiet.
