At first I’m sure someone peers at me. Leans close to my face. Her hair (yes, it’s a girl) brushes against my cheek. Her fingers on my shoulder. A close inspection of my room and then right back to where I’m lying. Checking.

A wail pushes through a wall, cries in the night, squeezes at my heart.

She moves toward the sound. Comes back to me. Watches. Swims through the darkness. Disappears. Reappears. Like the anguish pulls her. Like moving to a dance. Or the waves of the ocean.