The first thing I did was check whether my daughter was breathing normally.
It was almost eleven at night.
Maya lay curled beneath her pink blanket, clutching a stuffed rabbit she’d owned since she was three. Her small face looked peaceful, but after listening to the recording, I could no longer mistake her exhaustion for ordinary sleep.
I touched her forehead.
“Maya, sweetheart?”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Mommy?”
“I’m right here.”
She reached for my hand.
“Are we going somewhere again?”
The question nearly broke me.
“No, baby. You’re staying with me.”
She stared at me with a strange expression.
“Uncle Cameron said I shouldn’t tell you about the other place.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What other place?”
Her tiny fingers tightened around mine.
“The place with the white lights.”
I swallowed.
“Can you tell Mommy what happens there?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t remember everything.”
“That’s okay.”
“There’s a lady.”
