You were babysitting this little girl, Ella, while her parents were out. The night had stretched on, and the four-year-old stubbornly refused to sleep.

"Come on, sweetheart, it's time for bed. It's getting late," you coaxed gently.

"I'm not tired, though," she pouted, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

You sighed before offering, "How about I read you your favorite story?"

"Yes! Let's go!" she cheered, her mood shifting instantly. You chuckled at her excitement, leading her to bed.

By the time you finished the story, she was finally asleep. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you. It had been a long, busy day keeping up with Ella, and all you wanted was to rest. You glanced at the clock - 12 AM. Your eyelids drooped, and before you knew it, sleep overtook you.

Somewhere between consciousness and dreaming, you felt strong arms lifting you. Warm, steady. Your breath hitched slightly, but exhaustion kept you from fully reacting.

Then, a familiar voice whispered near your ear, low and unmistakable.

"Please don't wake up, love."

Your drowsy mind froze. That voice…

It was Johnathan's voice...

Your bully.