Isabelle, freshly cleaned and dressed in her pajamas, crawled into bed and hugged the covers to her chest. I smiled, as I always did, and got to work straightening out the sheets to tuck her in properly. Her big, brown eyes darted about the dark room before meeting mine as I brought the blanket to her chin.

"Daddy?" she asked, a slight quiver in her voice. "Are monsters real?"

I gave a slight chuckle, pushing her bangs away from her face and back behind her ear. Such an endearing question. The kind only a child could ask. I took a deep breath before I began.

"Yes, sweetheart," I said gently. "Monsters are real." I kept stroking her hair until the panic that flashed in her eyes faded. "But you have so much courage, and so much goodness in you, that those monsters won't be able to hurt you."

Isabelle anxiously gripped and fiddled with the edge of her blanket.

"Do you think there are any monsters under my bed?"

"Hmm... I don't know," I admitted. "How about we check together?"

After a moment's hesitation, Isabelle slipped out from under the covers and joined me beside the bed.

"Ready?" I asked, gripping the edge of her sheets. "One, two, three." I pulled up the sheet and we both ducked down to look underneath. "...I don't see any monsters," I said. "Do you?"

"Mm-mmm," she said, shaking her said.

I wrapped her up in a hug. "I am so proud of you," I told her as I rocked her. "You were so brave. Next time you're worried about monsters, you think you can check on your own?"

"I think so," she whispered with a nod. I released her from my hug and proceeded to tuck her back into bed.

"Daddy?" she asked. "What do I do if I actually find a monster?"

I considered the question and smiled to her. "Remember you are brave and good, and you won't have to be afraid. Nothing scares a monster more than a girl who isn't afraid."

Isabelle smiled, her eyes fluttering with drowsiness.

"Good night, Daddy," she said, barely a whisper. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

[hr]

Isabelle, with her shiny, black hair brushed silky-smooth and her almost nutty-brown skin freshly washed, was dressed in her pajamas, waiting to be tuck into bed. I slowly slid the blanket up to her chin.

"Daddy?" she asked me. "Is magic real?"

I smiled and held back a chuckle. Sometimes I think she asks me these charming questions just to put off going to sleep.

"Yes, sweetheart," I told her. "Magic is real. The problem is, there's a lot of fake magic in the world. It can be hard to see the real magic out there."

Her face scrunched in thought. "How do I tell them apart?"

I kissed her cheek, and she playfully pushed me back. At least she was smiling again.

"Fake magic is bad," I explained. "It tries to trick you, and take things away from you." I gripped her hand and looked into her eyes. "But real magic makes the whole world better. You can't really see it, but you know it's there, 'cause you can feel it." I gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Like the wind," she said.

"Exactly like the wind," I said, nodding.

Isabelle yawned softly, and I let go of her hand.

"Good night, Daddy," she said, closing her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

[hr]

"Daddy?" Isabelle asked once she was tucked in. "...Are angels real?"

My shoulders tensed at the question, but they settled back down with a calming breath.

"Yes, sweetheart," I told her. "Angels are real." I reached over and cupped her cheek in my palm. With a touch as light as a phantom's, my thumb rubbed against her cheekbone, possibly the only thing she inherited from me. Everything else—that button nose, those lips, those eyelashes—they all came from her. My mouth moved limply as I tried to remember what I was going to say next.

"A-angels are all around us," I said, gazing into her eyes. "Everywhere we look, they're keeping away the monsters and spreading their magic."

She chewed her lip for a moment.

"Daddy?" she asked softly. "Do you think Mommy became an angel?"

I became painfully aware of how much I was blinking as I drew a shuddering breath.

"Yes, sweetheart," I whispered, praying she couldn't see my tears. "She was always an angel."