Then she whispered:
“Are those…”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“Every princess I could find.”
Sophie walked forward.
She touched one box.
Then another.
Then another.
“Grandpa…”
She turned.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Gideon immediately worried.
“What's wrong?”
Sophie ran toward him.
She wrapped both arms around his waist.
Gideon froze.
Then he hugged her.
“You said I could have all of them.”
“I know.”
“You remembered.”
“Of course.”
She cried into his shirt.
Gideon held her.
“I miss Mommy.”
“I know.”
“I wish she could see this.”
Gideon closed his eyes.
“So do I.”
Sophie pulled away.
“She would love them.”
“Yes.”
“She would say there are too many.”
Gideon laughed.
“She probably would.”
Sophie smiled through her tears.
Then she noticed the castle.
“What's that?”
Gideon pointed.
“That's your castle.”
She stared.
“Mine?”
“Yours.”
She ran toward it.
For the first time in months, Gideon heard something he had almost forgotten.
Sophie laughing.
Not a polite laugh.
Not a forced laugh.
A real laugh.
A child's laugh.
Gideon stood in the doorway.
His eyes filled with tears.
He had wanted to give her every princess.
Instead, he had given her a reason to smile
That night, Sophie asked Gideon to stay.
“Can you tell me about Mommy?”
“Of course.”
They sat beside the castle.
Sophie held Cinderella.
“Tell me something I don't know.”
Gideon smiled.
“Your mother once stole my motorcycle.”
Sophie laughed.
“She did not.”
“She absolutely did.”
“When?”
“She was nineteen.”
“What happened?”
“She took it without asking.”
“Why?”
“She wanted to impress a boy.”
“Did it work?”
Gideon smiled.
“Very well.”
“Who was the boy?”
Gideon looked at her.
“Your father.”
Sophie smiled.
“Tell me more.”
So Gideon did.
He told her stories about Elena as a teenager.
He told her how she used to sing badly.
How she once dyed her hair bright red.