That night began like any other—quiet, peaceful, with the usual routine of bedtime stories and soft night-light glow filling my son’s room. But as the hours passed and the house grew still, I woke up to the faint sound of whispering. It wasn’t loud enough to make out words, but it was steady, like a child having a gentle conversation. At first, I thought he might be talking in his sleep, so I walked down the hallway and pushed open his door as quietly as I could. There he was—my little boy—sitting straight up in bed with his tiny knees...
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