"I was a student once."
She began her story, her voice taking on a distant quality.
"A damn good one, too. They called me an academic prodigy. I graduated high school early. By nineteen, I was in my second year of college, top of my class in mathematics."
A faint, proud smile touched her lips as she remembered a distant past before it eventually faded.
"I was working with one of my professors on a special project. It was complex, beautiful work. It could have gotten us both published."
Her tone grew softer, lost in memory.
"He was brilliant and quite charming. We spent long nights in his office, just the two of us, surrounded by books and chalkboards. We'd talk about numbers, theories, the future… Then, those talks became… something else. He made me feel seen and special."
Seth remained silent, letting the story unfold.
"One thing led to another of course."
She said, the words flat.
"And before I knew it, I was pregnant."
She gave a bitter laugh that held no humor.
"When I told him, he just… stared. Then he told me to 'handle it.' He said he had a reputation, a career to protect. Our 'special connection' was over."
Her fingers tightened around her cup until her knuckles were white.
"I was naive. I thought he'd come to his senses. I waited. But the only thing that came were the whispers in the hallways."
Her voice dropped to a shame-filled whisper.
"'Slut.' 'Homewrecker.' The dean called me in. He said I was a 'moral disgrace,' that I was 'tainting the school's image.' He told me to leave quietly or be expelled."
"And the professor?"
Seth asked quietly.
"He kept his job."
She stated, her voice empty.
"I heard he got a promotion the following year."
Seth leaned back, the gentle clatter of the café around them a stark contrast to the harshness of her past.
"So, what did you do?"
"I kept the baby."
Matilda said, and for the first time, a genuine, tender light appeared in her eyes.
"I couldn't afford a proper abortion, and the back-alley ones… I was too scared. So I decided to see it as a new path. When she was born, I named her Nadia. It means 'hope' in an old language, Relfigan."
Her voice thickened with emotion.
"When she opened her eyes for the first time… they were so clear, so bright. She looked right at me. I held her and I cried and cried. Not from sadness, but because… for the first time since everything fell apart, I felt like my life had a real purpose. She made me want to live."
Seth's expression was unreadable, but his tone was gentle.
"You must have loved her deeply."
"I still do."
Matilda whispered, her gaze far away.
"Even now."
She took a shaky breath.
"But love doesn't put food on the table. I took any job I could find. Scrubbing floors, washing dishes in scalding water, hauling trash. It was never enough. There were days I'd go to bed so hungry my stomach felt like a knot, just so I could afford a little milk for her."
Her hand trembled as she lifted her cup.
"There were… very dark times. I'd stand on the bridge over the river, holding her, and the thought would come… how peaceful it would be to just let go. Maybe in Heaven, I could finally give her the life she deserved. It was a terrible, selfish thought, but on those cold nights, it was a constant whisper."
She looked directly at Seth, her eyes begging him to understand.
"But I never did it, I knew I couldn't. She'd smile, or giggle, and I'd find the strength for one more day."
Seth looked down, his own past feeling strangely light compared to the weight of hers.
"What happened to her?"
He asked softly.
The question seemed to paralyze her.
She went completely still, her eyes fixed on the table.
"She was two at that time."
Matilda finally said, her voice barely audible.
"It was a rainy night. I came home late from a double shift, exhausted, but I had a little bit of stew from the diner for her. When I opened the door… her little bed was empty."
Seth's brows furrowed.
"Was she kidnapped?"
Matilda nodded, the tiredness of her eyes seemed to have accepted the situation regarding her baby long ago.
"A neighbor claimed she was taken by a witch. They said a woman in a dark, flowing dress was talking to Nadia outside our building. The woman wasn't normal and my neighbor said she had a strange air about her."
"The neighbor said Nadia was smiling, reaching for her. Then… they both vanished. Just… gone."
Her voice cracked completely.
"I searched for weeks, months even. I went to the city guards, I put up posters, I begged in the streets for information. They told me children disappear all the time in the poor districts. They told me to accept it and move on."
"But how could I?"
She snapped, her grief flashing into anger for a second before collapsing back into despair.
"She was my reason to live. She was my hope. When she was taken… they didn't just take my daughter. They took my future. They took my will to fight..."
"This…"
She gestured to her own worn-out appearance.
"…this is all that's left."
Seth was silent for a moment as he contemplated for a response.
He gazed outside the cafe as he saw the lively lively people come and go from the streets.
For a moment, he could not help but think about the fragileness of human life, and how each one of them would eventually suffer different tragic fates.
In the end, he could only offer one sentence.
"There's a peace that comes when you've lost enough— because then, nothing left in the world can hurt you more than it already has."
[You have gained a deeper understanding to the Sin of the Meaningless]