Mr Goldman looks through my papers with an unimpressed expression on his face. I never know what to think when he has that expression. Sometimes when he has it, it means he likes the piece, other times, not so much. Ilse is in my arms, dead to the world, thank goodness Mr Goldman lets me bring her to the office.

"This is good, Melchior." He looks up over his glasses, hitting the papers sharply against his desk. "The questions about betrayal and all that. Keep writing like this, your last piece was… lacking."

"Thank you, sir." I say and take his outstretched hand for a shake.

"How's the little chipper?" He nods towards Ilse. "She grows each time you bring her in."

I smile down at Ilse. "Yes. She grows so quickly."

"Well." He beams at Ilse for a moment before turning to me. ""I want you to cover something new next time, Gabor. Your pieces on society and religion are brilliantly written and gripping but the readers want something different! So, I am asking you to do a spread on children. What they're like, how they act, maybe put a philosophical twist on it."

I nod slowly. "I'll certainly try my best, sir."

"Good." He stands up, signaling for me to as well, picking up my satchel. "See you this time next week then, Melchior."

"Goodbye, sir." I say, exiting the room.

This is so difficult.

I have been sitting at the typewriter for nearly an hour now haven't written one word. I have tried watching or talking to Ilse but nothing came up. It was easy enough last week, the subject was something that was on my mind right then. Now? Nothing.

Ilse is sitting in her chair by the table and to be completely honest, she's not helping. She's talking to her doll and occasionally throws her head back and giggles loudly.

"Childhood is…" I run my fingers through my hair, staring at the blank sheet in front of me. "Children… Ilse, shh!" I make the gesture with my finger in front of my mouth and she looks at me blankly.

"Life without children... No, too soft, Ilse! Shh!" I do the gesture again but this time she does it back at me.

"Children… Oh, this is hopeless!" I bury my face in my hands while Isle babbles away to herself.

"Sama fitchila kitty." She says in her made up language.

"Okay. Children, our past… ILSE, COULD YOU BE QUIET FOR ONE MINUTE?" I bellow down at her.

No. I didn't have just shouted at her. Not at sweet little Ilse.

She is looking at me with shock and fear, her face slowly disintegrating. Then she lets out a sob. A single sob, but that's all it took for many more to come.

"Ilse, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" I kneel down at to the chair and pick her up, but her cries only get louder. She starts to push away from me, screaming as tears run down from her eyes. "Please, don't cry!" I try to hold her head to my chest, a method that usually works to calm her down but she pushes away, trying to get as far as she can from me.

My daughter is afraid of me. The thought hits me like a brick. I promised I would never hurt her but here she is, afraid of me with everything she has.

"No, please, Ilse!" I cry desperate and hold her tighter but she just pushes at the restraints of my arms.

I can't deal with it anymore. I throw open the door and run to the next door house and knock quickly, Ilse's cries piercing the cold evening silence. Mrs Bennet opens the door.

"I- I'm so sorry, Mrs Bennet." I push out, my voice breaking. "I.. I c-can't…"

"It's alright, Melchior, give her here." Mrs Bennet smiles at me as I hand Ilse over. "I'll get her to sleep and bring her round afterwards."

"Thank you." I whisper before the door closes in front of my face. I walk back to the house, feeling numb inside as the silent and cold tears drip down my face.

I shut the door behind me and collapse in the living room, letting my trousers get stained with tears. I am so angry at myself. All I can see is Ilse's face all I can hear are her screams. What if she never trusts me again? What if I become a stranger to her from how on? What if she no longer thinks of me as her father?

I feel like there are splinters of ice dotting my insides as I think that. Ilse is the last thing I have in this world, the last thing that I have of Wendla.

Wendla. If she's seen what I did, she would have never forgiven me. Ilse was so important to her. She would have hated me for sure.

A bell rings. Ilse is back. I get up and open the door and Mrs Bennet is holding Ilse.

"There you are." She looks unimpressed with me as she carefully transfers Ilse form her arms to mine.

"Thank you, Mrs Bennet." I smile gratefully at her but her lips tighten.

"Take care of her, then." She gives me an icy look then walks out.

I shut the door behind her and slowly carry Ilse up to her bedroom and place her in her crib.

I hope she forgets about this in the morning. She has to.

In the end, we have only each other.

A/N You see the Writers Block that Melchior has? I deal with that like every day.

I was going to have him go to Sarah's house but it would completely ruin what I have in store for next chapter!