Small. Trembling. So full of hope it hurts.
"Mommy?"
I slide off the bed, my socks silent on worn carpet. The hallway light cuts across the room, just enough to see the tear in the bear's ear. I fixate on it, blinking hard against the sting in my eyes.
Kevin's voice explodes again. "Damn it, Claire!" Something crashes, and I jump. "You're gonna regret this!"
I run to the window, pressing my hands against cold glass. Below, a figure cuts through the darkness, moving so fast she's almost running. Long dark hair streams behind her like a flag of surrender.
"Mom!" I bang on the window, but she doesn't look back. "Mom, please!"
She reaches the corner where the streetlight flickers—that broken one that never works right.
For a second, she pauses.
And I think—I hope—she's going to turn around.
But then...
A faint glow halos her figure. Soft, almost like moonlight. Just for a breath.
I blink.
And she steps into the shadows.
The night swallows her whole.
One moment she's there, and the next... nothing.
I shrink back from the window, clutching the bear to my chest, and slide to the floor. My knees hit the carpet as the first sob breaks free—
I wake up gasping.
My chest heaves like I've been drowning, cold sweat making my shirt stick to my skin. The room is too quiet, too dark, and for a moment I can't remember where I am. The taste of cigarettes lingers in my mouth, and I swear I can still smell burnt toast.
I sit up slowly, running a hand through my hair. My fingers shake.
What the hell was that?
The nightmare clings to me like smoke, every detail sharp and vivid. The texture of the bear's fur. The exact words of the fight. The way the light flickered around Claire before she disappeared.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor. The mist hovers at the edges of the room, thicker than usual, watching. Waiting.
I know that night.
Bree told us her mom left when she was little. But she never told us how. Never described the fight, or watching from the window, or...
The bear.
She never mentioned a bear.
My chest tightens.
It wasn’t just a dream.
It felt like a memory.
And I don’t know how that’s possible.
