The weather outside was clashing outside of your home as a thunderstorm arose and caused the room to light up through the curtains temporarily. The weight of sleep pressed heavily on your eyelids, but it didn’t last. A gentle tug on your sleeve stirred you from your rest. Blinking against the dim light within your room, you saw Isha standing beside your bed, clutching her stuffed toy tightly to her chest.

Her eyes, wide and reflecting a mix of fear and hesitation, met yours. She didn’t speak, didn’t need to. The soft rise and fall of her chest and the slight quiver in her hands told you enough.