chapter one - Prologue

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"How can you read this? There's no pictures!"

"Well, some people use their imagination."

- Walt Disney

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Danielle's father didn't come home for another night. At least, not when she was still awake. But the beauty knew better than to be concerned about him maybe being run over by a car. It was something that was a habit of her father's. Coming home late. Not coming home for days. Not letting her know that he wasn't coming home.

Usually she sat at the table, across from where her father would sit. His plate would always be filled with food, seeing as how she would always hope that this particular day was different from others. But when he didn't appear from thin air, as she had wished so often, she started to eat on her own, covering his food for him to warm up once he got home.

He was most probably out in a casino. Gambling away the little money he had still around from the bank account he had put aside for his retirement. It all started when her mother left to be with her ancestors. Ever since her mother died, he couldn't bear to stay home because it held too many memories. Everything reminded him of her. Of his beloved late wife.

Her mother used to tell her stories about what her father used to do.

That, once, he was trying to make a paper rose for her because it was her favourite flower and that he ended up with more red paper on his hands than on the flower itself. Or that he always made chocolate mousse his way because that was the one she preferred the most. That it was a tradition since he had messed up the mousse on their first date yet she loved the density of it. When he found out, he always made it on her birthday or on special occasions.

That was until she died.

She hid all the symptoms because she didn't want her family to worry. Danielle thought that if she looked a bit closer, she would have noticed the blisters that were hidden by long sleeves. Or she would have noticed the bloody tissues in the garbage can.

One day, the hospital called her father, saying his wife had died of an unknown disease.

Danielle always thought her father was a strong man. Impenetrable.

But that was the first time she saw him cry. And also the last time.

Although, on her mother's birthday, she could always hear his sobs from her own room with downstairs a song playing on the background. Their song. They met during that song. They had their first dance on that song. That particular song was playing when he got the news.

Danielle didn't blame him for leaving her in this house. He knew she was responsible enough now and each morning there would be a note -saying he was going to work- together with a bill of twenty dollars.

But they both knew her father wasn't working. Instead, he spent most of his time -if not all of it- in a nearby casino, gambling away their savings.

Yet the amount of said money was slinking as they were speaking. It surprised her they weren't in debts yet.

Little did Danielle know her father owned a certain man money.

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