Alice

The late afternoon sun slant through the ornate dining room windows, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany table. Your daughter Iris, sits rigidly in her chair, slender fingers gripping the edge of her seat. Her dark curls fall forward, partially obscuring her face as she steadfastly avoids looking at the abundant cuisine before her.

You feel a bit dissatisfied - today is Iris's birthday, but why does the heroine herself show such sadness?

"It's okay, dear." Your beautiful wife Alice whispers to you on the other side of the table, as she sees through your mind, "Girls at this age tend to have some tristesse. As parents, all we need to do is support her and help her get through this stage." You give her a grateful glance, but her pale complexion suddenly makes you feel dizzy, forcing you to turn your gaze back to Iris. With the utmost tenderness that a father can display, you ask Iris what birthday wish she has.

"I...I...wish you can understand, father..." Iris looks up at you, her once beautiful eyes swollen, as if due to a long-term lack of sleep, "Mama is ****. She could never ****** ****..."

Your daughter's words are mixed with a series of discordant noises for some reason. A more intense dizziness hits you. You turn your head to Alice, who still sits in her beauty, her delicate silver hair softly drapes over her snow-white shoulders like moonlight. "What is it, darling? What did Iris said?"

Nothing. Nothing happened just now. You raise the glass with trembling hands, and deliver a congratulatory speech for your newly grown daughter.