Morning light spilled softly across the nursery, but something felt different. A young mother froze in the doorway, heart racing, as she saw her eldest son sitting quietly beside his baby brother’s crib. The boy’s small frame curled protectively around the infant, one tiny hand resting on the baby’s chest as if guarding him from unseen danger.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” she asked, voice trembling.“I have to protect him, Mom,” he whispered. “They told me he might be taken away.”
A chill ran through her. “Who told you that?”
The child hesitated. “I heard them in my dreams. Every night they come — dark shapes. They say the baby isn’t safe. If I don’t stay with him, he’ll disappear.”
Her pulse quickened. She could have dismissed it as a nightmare. But the fear in his voice was real. This wasn’t a monster under the bed — it was love, fierce and overwhelming. Kneeling beside him, she brushed his hair back gently. “Dreams can feel real, but they can’t hurt us. Your brother is safe. We’re all here together.”Tears welled as he clutched his brother tighter. “No, Mom. It feels real. I’m the only one who can stop it.”
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