Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-28718853-20181223214243/@comment-36855838-20181224020506

I kneel.

"Are you really prepared, sweetie?"

She looks at me like I've grown extra noses.

"W-what?"

"You're my daughter, yes, but more importantly, you're your mother's daughter."

I stand, and walk to her.

She's much too large to lift, light as her bones are, but I hold her tight.

"I know you can do this, if you trained properly. Did you?"

She returns the embrace.

"I t-tried, daddy! But Mommy said we didn't have enough money to buy equipment, s-so I saw the tournament was offering prizes a-and-"

I step back, at once swelling with pride and shriveling with concern.

"You wanted to help Mommy and Daddy?"

Her eyes shine with tears and flame.

"Yes. I thought we'd be able to pay the rent better if I won fights, That's how I got the door fixed, I made my opponents who lost fix 'em."

That explained the bruises a month ago, so she'd been in illegal rings?

"Maybe you can do it."

I take her hand, and impart some fatherly advice as we head in for dinner.

"Remember sweetie, what do you do when it gets to be too much?"

She beams.

"Forfeit."