"Dad, don't go!"
In the middle of the night, a scream pierced the silence as Crystal Foster sat up abruptly in bed, her forehead dotted with tiny beads of sweat. She was gasping for air.
"Mommy, did you have a bad dream?" Otto, her little boy, was woken up by her cry. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he reached out his small hand to pat Crystal's shoulder, even though he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open.
In his sweet, childish voice, he murmured, "Don't be scared, Mommy. Otto is here with you."
It took Crystal a moment to come back to her senses. She hugged Otto tightly, as if drawing warmth from his little body, and the shadows in her heart finally began to fade.
"Thank you, Otto. It's Mommy's fault for waking you up. Go back to sleep."
Crystal glanced at the clock. It was just past four in the morning. She was wide awake now, with no trace of sleepiness left.
Otto snuggled back into her embrace, gave her a peck on the cheek, and drifted back to sleep.
