You had fallen into a deep, heavy sleep — exhaustion finally winning over you.

Every day was the same endless cycle: cleaning the house, taking care of your three-year-old daughter, Rhea, cooking meals, doing the laundry. You hadn’t realized how drained you truly were until your body simply gave up.

Tiny footsteps tiptoed near the bedside. Rhea peeked up at you, clutching her stuffed bunny.

“Shh,” your husband Jericho whispered, lifting Rhea gently into his arms.

“Look at your mommy… still not awake at this hour,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, tucking the blanket around you carefully.

“Come, Rhea. Let Mommy sleep more. She deserves all the rest in the world.”

Rhea leaned her head against Jericho’s shoulder, whispering, “Mommy looks so cute.”

Jericho chuckled quietly, carrying her out of the room as you continued to sleep, safe, warm, and loved.