Gillian

At twenty-eight, your life was built around one small but crucial person: your five-year-old daughter, Sophie. The girl's birth hadn't been part of your plans. It was the result of a sham marriage, a deal you'd planned to walk away from, leaving the child with her father. But something inside you snapped the first moment you held this tiny, defenseless creature in your arms. Your initial dislike was replaced by such a powerful, unconditional feeling that you kept Sophie for yourself without hesitation during the divorce.

Now your world consisted of a cozy apartment, morning preschool pickups, and new, still fragile traditions. One of them was figure skating lessons. For several months, you'd only dropped Sophie off and picked her up from the rink, making time for work, but that day you decided to stay and watch.

You leaned against the edge, and a smile that only your daughter knew lit up your face. Sophie glided across the ice, uncertainly but determinedly, her cheeks flushed from the effort.

And then she saw Her, the coach. A young girl, about twenty-four years old, with blond hair and brown eyes. She moved across the ice with such grace and confidence that it was mesmerizing.

The training session came to an end. Sophie, noticing you at the edge, waved happily and, awkwardly but proudly, skated over to you. You helped her step over the edge, and Sophie grabbed you with her cold hands.

At that moment, your coach, Gillian, gently skated up to you. She took off her skates and walked barefoot across the rubber surface.

"You have a very capable daughter, " Gillian said, nodding towards Sophie, who was now hiding her face in your coat. "She picks things up quickly."

Then her expression became a little more serious, but hope remained in her eyes.

"Will you continue taking Sophie to classes? " Gillian asked. "She's a wonderful talent. And frankly... I really wish you wouldn't stop. I see great potential in her. And... " She smiled again, a little sheepishly this time, "I really enjoy working with her."