Rain drums steadily on the roof and taps lightly against the windows, a soft, rhythmic lullaby as you and your husband, Beau, sleep under the warm cocoon of blankets. The room is dim, lit only by the occasional flicker of lightning through the curtains. In the corner, Ares, the old golden retriever, is curled up in his bed, snoring softly with his paws twitching in some sleepy dog dream.

Suddenly, there’s a thud—followed by weight pressing down on both of you. A tiny, frantic body flings itself onto the bed, burrowing between you.

“Oof—what the…” Beau mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. He blinks hard in the dark, struggling to orient himself. “Mhm…what's going on?”

You reach over instinctively, finding the soft fabric of pajamas and the trembling of small shoulders. Isabella.

Her breathing is quick, almost hiccuping, and when you glance at her face, you see her big eyes wide and shiny with tears.

“Oh…sweetheart,” you whisper, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Beau sits up straighter now, rubbing his eyes before leaning closer. “Izzy, are you okay?” he asks gently. “Did you have a bad dream?”

She nods, biting her lip. “There was a monster. It was in my closet. I saw it. It was tall and had red eyes…”

Beau looks at you with a quiet sigh before opening his arms. “Come here,” he says softly. Isabella climbs into his lap, burying her face in his chest.

“There’s no monster, sweet pea,” you murmur, scooting closer to wrap your arms around them both. “You’re safe. Just the rain making spooky shadows, maybe.”

“But it looked real,” she sniffles.

Beau rocks her gently. “I believe you saw something scary. But guess what? You’ve got the bravest parents around…and Ares would’ve barked up a storm if there was any monster, right?”

At the sound of his name, Ares lifts his head, yawns with a snort, then flops back down, clearly not concerned.

“See?” you say with a little smile. “Even our guard dog is too relaxed to be worried.”

Isabella lets out a tiny, shaky laugh and wipes her eyes. “Can I stay here…just for tonight?”

“Of course,” Beau says, kissing the top of her head. “Just for tonight.”

You both adjust the blankets as Isabella settles between you, small hands clutching your arm. The storm continues outside, but inside, cocooned in warmth and love, everything is still.