Chapter 2: Margin For Error

"Riley," The name fell from his lips in a whisper, his eyes lost on the fiery-haired child as she curiously met his gaze. Moments passed where neither soul exchanged words, and as each second went by, she noticed the fear in her father's eyes. Her expression grew more worried, much against the mental pleads in Crash's head as she brought her lower lip into a pout.

You know I can't keep anything from you when you do that.

Riley still kept her gaze upon the elder being, waiting for an answer. When it came apparent that her father wasn't going to begin talking, a small whimper came from her. "Where's mommy?"

Where's mommy? It was a simple question to her, but it brought the weight of the world against his shoulders.

He wasn't prepared for this. How could he begin explaining her mother's disappearance to her when he hadn't figured it out himself? He could only lock emerald gazes with her and wait for his brain to rattle up a decent explanation.

Only then did Riley see the helplessness beaming in Crash's face, and she stepped back from him, "Where is she, daddy? She wasn't upstairs, and she's not down here. Where is mommy?" Her pout deepened and a small tear hugged her cheek.

No, please don't cry! Crash's eyes pleaded what he couldn't put into words. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms as she whimpered helplessly into his chest. He simply held her for a few moments until her rigid form melted into his chest, finally croaking softly, "Riley, please don't do that. We're going to be okay, I promise."

But who was he kidding? He suffered from the same absence in his heart as well. Maybe his meaningless words would put her little soul to rest, he prayed, as they were all that he could give her at that moment. How Crash wished to give her an answer that wouldn't bring a tear to her bold eyes but he knew he couldn't. Time passed where he said nothing, transfixed on his own thoughts that scurried inside his head. Then Riley broke the silence as she sobbed, clutching the stuffed teddy bear she had brought with her close, "Will mommy be back soon?"

Crash held his breath for a moment as he met the child's pleading eyes. Never in his whole life had he felt as low as now. He was the bad guy, delivering the crushing blow to the one that mattered to him the most. Though he tried to hide the stinging tears forming in the corners of his eyes, he was miserably failing and he locked eyes with his child, "No, little one. Mommy's not coming back."

Hours had felt like days, but Riley was now tucked snugly into her bed and sleep had finally become her acquaintance. For a moment, Crash found a small glimpse of ease as he observed her calm form, swiping away wisps of red hair from her face and tucking them around her ear.

But he still felt troubled by what had been only moments before, when the now sleeping child was wide awake and a fit of tears overwhelmed her as she screamed, "Whatever I did, daddy, I'm sorry! Please make mommy come back!"

He brought his glance over his daughter's face, twisting a stray lock of hair through his fingers before kissing her forehead softly, I don't understand. Why did Riley feel like it was her fault? As he thought, Crash's mind scurried to every possible outcome only to find none at its wake. Had she overheard Eliza say something that'd make her think that? Is this just a normal response to a situation like this?

A moment passed that he waited for an answer to his own question, only to realize there was no one to respond. His sigh was loud and defeated as he arose from Riley's bed, I have to know why this happened. Otherwise, it's going to be the death of me.

The sun peaked through Riley's window, smiling as its rays shone over her face; the birds that hadn't left for the winter yet sung their harmonious songs of a new day. They were making sure she knows they were there, wanting her to play with them. Usually, she sprung from her bed as soon as the sun showed itself, rushed downstairs to greet it, and enjoyed the sheer happiness the day would supply.

But, today, the little girl bleakly plopped her pillow over her head, hiding her face from the beautiful day as she murmured, "Just go away… I don't want to play today."

The birds continued to sing, as a plea for her to come outside, but the only response they received was her bitter growl and the projected pillow against the window. The birds scattered in fright as she cried in a blind rage, "Shut up! I don't want to play today!"

"Riley, are you okay?"

She heard her father's voice from across the hall, and sat for a moment to ponder his question. Soon, his voice echoed once more, a sincere concern plaguing it as it drew closer, "Riley?"

"I'm okay, daddy."

But in all reality, she was far from being okay. Too much swarmed inside her head, and she knew that her mother and father had been perfectly fine the morning before; so, why did her mother flee? She grew bitter at the lack of answers she had for herself, and though her father had tried time and time again to bring her some form of comfort, for once:

It was useless.

And when Riley brought her eyes back to the window, she saw a happy pair of swallows basking in the autumn sun. Envy grew within her at the sight, and she reached for another pillow to swat them away, but stopped before releasing the plush object. There was no need to scare them away... She was going out to see the birds today, as well as find her mother.