Chapter 4 - A Daughter's Strength
The small, two-bedroom apartment in Queens smelled of warm cinnamon and fresh laundry.
Gabriel unlocked the front door at 10:30 PM, slipping his keys into the wooden bowl on the hallway table. The apartment was simple—no Italian marble, no brass fixtures—but every inch of it was clean, cozy, and filled with life. Framing the living room walls were dozens of colorful drawings, school certificates, and photos of a bright-eyed, nine-year-old girl named Maya.
"Dad?" a young voice called out from the small kitchen table.
Maya was sitting over her math homework, her dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail, a half-eaten apple beside her notebook. Standing by the stove was Mrs. Gable, their elderly neighbor who looked after Maya whenever Gabriel worked late shifts.
"Hey, kiddo," Gabriel said, offering his daughter a genuine smile—the first real smile he had worn all night. He walked over, kissed the top of her head, and nodded gratefully to Mrs. Gable. "Thanks for staying late, Mrs. G."
"No trouble at all, Gabriel," the old woman said, gathering her sweater. "She was an angel. Finished her reading twice."
Once Mrs. Gable had slipped out the front door, Gabriel sat down across from Maya at the kitchen table. Maya looked up, her sharp brown eyes—so much like her late mother's—immediately catching the absence of the badge on his shirt.
"Where's your work badge, Dad?" she asked quietly.
Gabriel ran a hand over his face, letting out a slow, quiet breath. He never lied to his daughter. When his wife, Sarah, had passed away three years ago from illness, he had promised Maya that they would always face the world as a team, with complete honesty.
"I don't work at the hotel anymore, sweetie," Gabriel said gently.
Maya lowered her pencil. "Did you get fired?"
"I resigned," he corrected softly. "Something happened tonight at the event. A man was being mean to a lady. He put his hands on her, and nobody else was helping her. So I stepped in."
Maya watched her father's face, her young mind processing the information. "Did you hurt him?"
"I stopped him," Gabriel replied. "His family is very powerful. The boss wanted me to lie and say I was wrong for helping her. I couldn't do that."
Maya remained quiet for a moment. Then, she reached across the table and placed her small, warm hand over his calloused knuckles.
"Mom always said you were built to protect people," Maya said softly. "If you lied, you wouldn't be you. We'll be okay, right?"
Gabriel looked at his daughter, feeling a deep, powerful surge of warmth fill his chest, erasing all the anger and exhaustion of the night. He squeezed her hand.
"We're always okay, kiddo. We're a team."
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"Good," Maya smiled, pulling her notebook closer. "Now help me with long division. It's way harder than stopping bad guys."
Gabriel laughed—a deep, rich sound that filled the small apartment—and pulled his chair closer to his daughter, leaving the troubles of Midtown Manhattan outside their door.
