Chapter Text
Noel has always loved Christmas.
Not just because it’s a holiday when she can sleep in as late as she wants, or because all of Ionia is blanketed in snow and glowing with beautiful lights.
But because it’s also her birthday.
“That’s why you’re named Noel. Be glad you share a birthday with Jesus,” her mother once told her. It’s one of the few things her mother has ever said freely, without hesitation or the uneasy expression that usually appears when she talks about the past.
But things are different now.
Noel isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s about to turn twelve, which marks the beginning of adolescence. Her science teacher says being a teenager means going through a whirlwind of changes, both physical and emotional. And it seems those changes have already started for Noel.
In the days leading up to her birthday, she can’t sleep. Her mind is a restless swirl of thoughts stirred without warning by one persistent question, a question that has gone unanswered since the moment she was born.
Who is her father?
Noel has never minded growing up with just her mother. Plenty of kids these days live with single parents. And her mother takes care of her as best as any mother could. Even with long and exhausting shifts as a nurse, she still manages to spend time with her daughter. They talk about everything, woman to woman, almost every day. There are no secrets between them.
But even so, Noel knows her mother is keeping one secret from her, a secret she avoids no matter how close they are.
Noel first asked about him when she was very young, maybe six or seven. She remembers the change in her mother’s face all too clearly, the hesitation in her voice when she said, “He might not be here with us, but your father has always loved you.” And she remembers catching her mother crying quietly alone in the kitchen after tucking her in.
That was when Noel realized the word “father” was forbidden.
Since then, she has never spoken of him in front of her mother again.
But she knows he exists. And somewhere out there, he is still alive.
This morning is both Christmas Day and her birthday, yet it feels anything but bright. The heavy snowfall since yesterday has drained all color from the streets, leaving nothing but a stark, endless white. Even the sky is gloomy, veiled in gray.
Noel steps down the dark polished wooden stairs and heads to the kitchen, where she sees her mother at the stove, busy frying pancakes and bacon for breakfast. It’s a familiar sight, part of the daily routine she knows so well.
Normally, Noel would greet her mother with a cheerful “Good morning.” But today, she walks past her in silence. She moves straight to the counter, reaches for the pot of English breakfast tea, and pours it into her pink ceramic cup. Her movements are absentminded, and she nearly scalds her hand with the hot tea.
Last night, she peeked into her mother’s diary. It was a rash and thoughtless decision. And now, she knows something she was never meant to know. It is a truth her mother has hidden from her for so long.
Silco—That is the name she saw in her mother’s diary.
Her father. The man who abandoned them.
What really happened twelve years ago?
Why didn’t her mother stay with him?
What kind of secret has she been hiding all this time?
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Her mother sets a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of her, but Noel doesn’t respond. She just sits there, stirring her tea with a focus so intense it seems almost desperate. Her strange, withdrawn behavior doesn’t escape her mother’s notice. Concern flashes in her eyes as she pulls out a chair and sits beside her, gently holding Noel’s hand.
“Is there something special you’d like for your birthday this year?” she asks softly.
Noel finally lifts her eyes to meet her mother. She stares for a moment, then speaks.
“If I want to meet my father for my birthday, would you let me?”
She sees it again—that familiar shift in her mother’s face. Just like the first time she ever asked about her father. That same mixture of longing, and deep sadness. But this time, her mother looks calmer, almost as if she’s been expecting this day to come.
“So… you know already?”
Noel nods, watching her mother’s reaction closely. “I saw it in your diary. His name.”
Her mother falls silent for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to gather her thoughts, an effort that seems to weigh heavily on her. “No matter what you think of your father,” she says softly, lifting her teacup for a slow sip before continuing, “the truth isn’t always what we believe it to be.
That only deepens Noel’s frustration. The way her mother still dances around the topic, still trying to dodge it, grates on her nerves. “Then tell me,” she snaps. “What is the truth? Why did he leave us?”
“He didn’t leave us, Noel. I was the one who left him. I was the one who walked away.”
Her voice is barely a whisper, yet Noel hears every word with absolute clarity. And it only makes things more confusing. Even though she’s sure her mother is telling the truth, it still doesn’t make sense. Why couldn’t they have just been a normal family, like everyone else?
The old heater hums quietly in the background, its sound swallowed by the colder, heavier silence that settles over the kitchen. Neither of them says a word. Each is lost in the tangle of her own thoughts.
Noel watches as her mother lets out a long, weary sigh. When their eyes finally meet, her gaze is tight with tension and gravity.
“If you really want to know the truth,” she says at last, “then I’ll tell you.”
So here it is, the moment of truth Noel has always longed for.
And yet, now that it’s finally here, she isn’t so sure anymore whether she truly wants to face it.
