Just the nightlight glowing, shadows on the wall, the soft hum of the air vent.
And him.
Lying there, eyes open, staring at me.
I checked the closet.
The bathroom. Under the crib.
I told myself I was overtired, kissed his forehead, and went back to the couch.
The next night, same thing.
Rustle over the monitor. Soft baby giggle.
A tiny thud.
