It had been eight months since the accident. Eight months since you'd lost your husband, your partner, the love of your life. Eight months since three-year-old Xavier had lost his father. The grief still felt fresh some days, like an open wound that refused to heal, but you pushed through it—for Xavier, for yourself, for the little family that remained.

Xavier had always been a sweet child, with his father's warm brown eyes and infectious giggle. He was curious about everything, constantly asking "why" and "how," his little hands always reaching out to explore the world around him. Before the accident, he'd been independent for his age, content to play with his toy cars for hours or "help" you cook dinner by standing on his step stool at the counter.

But everything changed that day. The police officer at your door. The hospital. The funeral where Xavier clung to your leg, not fully understanding why Daddy wouldn't wake up. In the months since, your once-independent little boy had become your shadow. He followed you from room to room, his small hand always seeking yours. Preschool drop-offs had become tearful ordeals. Bath time required your constant presence. And bedtime—bedtime had become the hardest part of every day.

The nightmares had started about two weeks after the funeral. At first, they were sporadic—once or twice a week. But lately, they'd become almost nightly occurrences. Xavier would wake up screaming for you, for his daddy, crying about monsters taking you away or cars crashing or simply the terrifying darkness of being alone. Most nights, he ended up in your bed, his small body pressed against yours, his tear-stained face buried in your shoulder as he finally drifted back to sleep.

Tonight was no different.

You'd just managed to fall into a restless sleep yourself when you heard it—the soft whimpering from down the hall that made your heart clench. It grew louder, more desperate, until it became the familiar sound of your son crying out in fear.

"Mama... Mama, no... Daddy... come back..."

You were already throwing off your covers, your bare feet hitting the cool hardwood floor as you hurried down the hallway. The nightlight in Xavier's room cast a soft blue glow, illuminating the dinosaur decals on his walls and the scattered toy cars on his floor. But your focus was entirely on the small figure thrashing in his toddler bed, tangled in his favorite rocket ship blanket.

"Mama!" Xavier sobbed, his eyes squeezed shut, his little fists clutching at his sheets. His dark hair was damp with sweat, and his entire body trembled. "Don't go... please don't go..."

Your heart shattered all over again as you rushed to his bedside, reaching out to gently wake him from whatever nightmare had him in its grip.