Young parents observed their eldest son going into his younger brother’s room each morning at…
The house was still, blanketed in the quiet of dawn. The mother paused in the hallway, noticing the soft creak of a door — her eldest son’s footsteps disappearing into his baby brother’s room, just as he had done every morning that week.
She followed silently, heart heavy with worry.
There, in the pale morning light, she found him sitting beside the crib, his small arms wrapped protectively around the baby. His face was pale but resolute, eyes filled with something far beyond his years.
“Sweetheart,” she whispered, “what are you doing in here every morning?”
The boy hesitated before answering, his voice barely audible.
“I have to protect him, Mom. They told me he might be taken away.”
Her chest tightened. “Who told you that?”
He swallowed hard. “The shadows in my dreams,” he said. “They come every night. They say if I don’t watch him, he’ll disappear.”
The mother’s breath caught in her throat. She knelt beside him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Dreams can feel real,” she said softly, “but they can’t hurt us. Your brother is safe. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Tears welled in his eyes as he shook his head. “But it feels real, Mom. I can’t let him go.”
She pulled both boys close, feeling their tiny heartbeats against her. In that fragile silence, she made a quiet promise — to protect them both, not just from danger, but from fear itself.