In the quiet, mist-covered town of Alexandra, nestled between low hills and whispering woods, lived a humble couple—Joseph Millet, a soft-spoken, hardworking carpenter, and Sarah Millet, a gentle, radiant woman whose laughter could melt the coldest winters. They lived in a small wooden house at the edge of town, where they dreamed of raising a family in peace. Sarah was pregnant with their first child, and both waited eagerly for the new life that would complete their little world. Every evening, Joseph would sit by Sarah’s side, his rough hands resting on her belly, whispering lullabies to the unborn baby. Their world was simple, but it was filled with love.
But fate, cruel and unpredictable, had other plans.
The night Sarah went into labor, a storm raged across Alexandra. The roads were flooded, and the town doctor arrived late. Hours passed in agonizing silence. Finally, a cry broke through the heavy air—it was a baby boy. But joy quickly turned to horror. Sarah’s body had grown too weak. She had lost too much blood. As she lay dying, her last words were whispered to the crying child in her arms: "Smile... that's your name... you are my smile..." And with that final breath, she was gone.
Joseph’s world shattered in a single moment. What was supposed to be the happiest day of his life had become the worst. Overwhelmed by grief, he couldn’t even look at his newborn son without feeling rage and sorrow. He named him as Sarah wished—Smile—but in his heart, he blamed the boy for Sarah’s death. He stopped eating, stopped working, stopped speaking. Within days, Joseph died, some said from a broken heart, others whispered it was guilt.
And so, the child named Smile entered the world wrapped in silence, orphaned at birth, and unknowingly carrying the weight of two deaths—his mother’s and his father’s.
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