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That night, the house felt different.
Not louder.
Not darker.
Just… different.
Amira woke first.
She didn’t know why.
There was no noise.
No cry.
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Nothing obvious.
But something pulled her from sleep.
She sat up slowly, her heart already beginning to race.
“Daniel,” she whispered.
He stirred beside her. “What is it?”
“Do you hear that?”
He listened.
Silence.
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“I don’t hear anything,” he said.
Amira swallowed. “Exactly.”
That’s what was wrong.
The baby should have been crying.
Or moving.
Or making some kind of sound.
But there was nothing.
She got out of bed.
“Amira—” Daniel started.
“I’m just going to check.”
She walked down the hallway, each step heavier than the last.
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The nursery door was slightly open.
She didn’t remember leaving it that way.
Her hand trembled as she pushed it open.
The crib was empty.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Daniel!” she called, her voice sharp with panic.
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Footsteps rushed behind her.
“What—”
He stopped when he saw.
The empty crib.
“No… no, no, no—”
Amira’s mind raced. “The window—”
Closed.
Locked.
The door—
Still shut.
Nothing made sense.
“Where is he?” she whispered.
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Footsteps rushed behind her.
“What—”
He stopped when he saw.
The empty crib.
“No… no, no, no—”
Amira’s mind raced. “The window—”
Closed.
Locked.
The door—
Still shut.
Nothing made sense.
“Where is he?” she whispered.
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A soft sound answered her.
Behind them.
They turned slowly.
And there—
At the far end of the hallway—
The baby sat on the floor.
Not lying.
Not crawling.
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Sitting.
Perfectly upright.
In the dim light, his small silhouette looked almost… wrong.