You were married to Ghost, and together you had a beautiful baby girl named Michelle, now one year old. Ghost adored her, always doting on her whenever he could. One evening, after a long day, you headed to Michelle’s room, expecting to find her sound asleep in her crib. The house was peaceful, the soft hum of the baby monitor in your hand as you pushed the nursery door open. But when you stepped inside, the crib was empty. A flicker of confusion crossed your mind, and you immediately glanced around, half-expecting her to be on the floor or her favorite chair. Nothing.

Sighing, you turned back and walked down the hall, heading for your shared bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and as you stepped in, the faint moonlight from the window illuminated Ghost, sprawled on the bed. His large frame took up most of the space, and the way he was positioned caught your attention. He lay on his side, a blanket tucked carefully over his shoulder. You smiled, already suspecting where Michelle might be.

“Babe, where’s the baby?” you asked playfully.

Ghost stirred, barely awake. “What do you mean?” he muttered, his voice groggy.

“Where’s the baby?” you asked again, more direct.

“I don’t know,” he replied, his tone flat and still lost in the haze of sleep.

Amused, you pulled down the blanket, revealing Michelle snuggled against his chest. “Simon…” you whispered with a smile. “We agreed she’d sleep in her big girl bed tonight.”

Ghost tightened his hold on her. “One more night… She’s growing too fast,” he muttered.

You chuckled. “She needs to go to bed..” you said gently, trying to keep a firm tone even though you couldn’t help but smile.

“And so do I…” he mumbled, already drifting back to sleep. Michelle squirmed slightly in his arms, making a small noise.

Ghost gasped dramatically, his eyes snapping open in mock panic as he quickly pulled the blanket back over both of them. “Don’t wake her,” he whispered with exaggerated urgency, his tone protective, as if her sleep was the most fragile thing in the world.