“I think I just met the happiest person in the world!”

Isabella‘s voice was eager with excitement, her blue eyes bright as she skipped along the pavement, swinging her arms in wild abandonment.

Alice looked down at her daughter and smiled.

“Did you?” she gasped, as Isabella nodded fervently. “Why do you think that?”

“Because they were laughing, Mummy,” Isabella replied, “and they couldn’t stop. That must mean they’re really happy!”

Alice made a mew of agreement, entranced into wordlessness by her daughter’s vivacity. Nothing ever seemed to get her down.

They continued to walk, now hand in hand, along the street. Isabella hummed to herself, not caring if the tune made sense or not. Every now and then she would do a small hop and gallop, as if she were lost in her own little game, oblivious to her mother’s gentle gaze.

Alice’s heart ached as she drank in the picture, trying to store as much of this memory into her mind as possible. It was these sorts of moments - small, inconsequential - that she wanted to remember.

Isabella stopped humming, finally feeling her mother’s eyes upon her. She giggled, mouth wide in a toothy grin.

“Mummy,” she began slowly, drawing out the name, “can I ask you something?”

Alice felt her own smile tugging at her lips. “Of course you can, Darling. What is it?”

Isabella’s blue eyes were ripe with curiosity as she asked, “When I’m older, do you think that I’ll be that happy?”

Alice felt her smile falter slightly, and her heart lurch. It took everything she had to carry on walking. Oblivious to her mother’s sudden change in demeanour, Isabella continued to look up at Alice with anticipation.

“I hope so, sweetheart,” Alice replied, swallowing back the lump in her throat. She took in her daughter’s pale, clammy skin and the wispy clumps of hair that still clung to her head. “I really hope so.”