Page 71 of No One’s Daughter

I stepped out onto the small balcony, leaning against the railing as I lit one of the cigarettes I’d just bought, the flame briefly illuminating my hands before it caught.

I didn’t seek her out, instead I let her approach me.

I took a second drag when I heard the sliding creak of the door behind me.

“Have I been too hard?” I asked, not turning.

There was only silence for a moment, and I wondered if I should have just kept my mouth shut.

But she stepped up beside me, leaning against the railing too, and she let out a quiet breath as I held the pack out toward her without looking at her.

She took one and I flicked the lighter again, shielding the flame from the gentle breeze as she leaned in, the tip catching before she pulled back, exhaling slowly.

Then we just stood there, side by side, smoking, looking out over the city.

Below us, people moved in clusters and laughter drifted upward, the distant hum of traffic weaving through it. Christmas lights had begun to appear in shop windows and on lampposts, soft and warm against the dark.

“I used to love this time of year,” she said eventually, her voice quieter than I was used to.

“Used to?” I echoed.

She shrugged, taking another drag. “Claire would go all out. Decorations everywhere, matching mugs, the whole thing. We’d argue over what film to watch on Christmas Eve, even though we always watched the same one.”

A faint smile tugged at her mouth.

“Sounds… nice,” I said.

“It was,” she replied. Then, after a beat. “What about you?”

I stilled slightly. I hadn’t really thought about Christmas in a long time.

“I’ve had a few,” I said, deliberately vague. “They blur together after a while.”

She glanced at me like she knew I was skirting around something, but she didn’t push.

“I’ll take you to a phone box,” I said instead, shifting the focus. “So you can call her again, your sister.”

She shook her head almost immediately. “No.”

“You should.”

“And say what?” she countered, a hint of her usual sharpness returning. “Hi Claire, just checking in—no longer human, being hunted, in hiding with a jerk, learning how to weaponize air?”

I almost smiled.

“It might do you good to hear her voice.”

“It won’t,” she said quickly. “Drop it.”

So I did.

Realisation suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t even bothered to ask her about her human life. Was Claire the only person dear to her that she was leaving behind. Did she have a boyfriend? She hadn’t mentioned one, but then again I hadn’t asked or cared to listen too closely when she spoke during those first few days.

​“Is there anyone else you want to call?” I asked. “Like a boyfriend or something?”

​She let out a strange little laugh, like the idea of a boyfriend was ridiculous. “No, I don’t do relationships.”

​I nodded, taking a drag from my cigarette. She didn’t need to explain any further. I got it. I was the same.