“Daddy, I had a bad dream.” I blink my eyes and pull up on my elbows. The clock glows red in the darkness—it’s 3:23.
“Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?”
“No, Daddy.”
The oddness of the situation wakes me up more fully. I can barely make out my daughter’s pale form in the darkness of the room.
“Why not sweetie?”
“Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mummy’s skin sat up.”
The blankets behind me began to shift...
