The eyes remained fixed on me.
The boy lay on his side, his face partly hidden by the end of the blanket. In the faint light coming through the curtains, I could almost make out my own outline reflected in his eyes.
He was awake.
My hand remained against the wall as the bedroom door opened a little farther, the creaking sound louder than ever as my heart pounded against my chest.
"Roy?"
The old woman's voice echoed softly across the room.
"What are you doing awake?"
I pressed myself closer to the wardrobe, keeping my eyes on the child as I reached towards my nodes.
There was still a response.
'Good.'
At least I could get out if—
"Are you having trouble sleeping again?"
The old woman entered.
I could see part of her cardigan through the narrow space beside the wardrobe. She approached the bed without turning on the light, her slippers making a faint sound against the carpet.
Roy didn't answer.
The mattress sank as she sat beside him.
"Come here."
