THE WORDS THAT KEPT COMING BACK
Two days later.
Then three.
Then an entire week.
Every morning, Emily said something similar:
—Mom, I didn’t sleep well.
—My bed felt too small.
—I felt like I was being pushed to one side.
Then one morning, she asked a question that sent a chill through me.
—Mom… did you come into my room last night?
I knelt down and met her eyes.
—No. Why?
She hesitated.
—Because… it felt like someone was lying next to me.
I forced a laugh, keeping my voice calm.
—You must have been dreaming. Mom slept with Dad all night.
But from that moment on, I stopped sleeping peacefully.
