Adrien had never lived in a house this big before.
Sometimes, when he woke up, he forgot where he was.
The ceilings were too high.
The curtains too heavy.
The silence too quiet for a child who used to hear his mummy humming while she cooked.
But the toys helped.
His room looked like something out of a movie. Shelves filled with toys he had only ever seen on screens. Giant teddy bears bigger than him. Cars that moved on their own.
And clothes.
So many clothes.
Shoes in every color. Tiny jackets. Tiny suits. Tiny watches his daddy said were "special."
His daddy bought him something almost every day.
Adrien liked this life.
He liked the soft bed. The warm food. The big garden where no one shouted at him for running.
But at night, he still missed his mummy.
He padded downstairs in his socks, curls bouncing as he crossed the massive living room. The marble floor was cold, but the house smelled nice—clean, rich, like chocolate and flowers.
"Daddy!" he called happily.
