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For weeks, I dismissed my eight-year-old daughter’s nighttime worries as simple bedtime anxiety. We live in a quiet neighborhood, and Emily had always been confident sleeping alone. When she started saying her bed felt “too small,” I assumed it was bad dreams or too many stuffed animals. But when she asked one morning if I had come into her room overnight, her tired eyes told me something wasn’t right.
A mother senses when fear isn’t imaginary, and mine urged me to look closer. Emily’s sleep worsened. She said she felt pushed toward the edge of her mattress, like someone else was there. My husband, Daniel, chalked it up to stress or imagination, but I couldn’t ignore the growing unease. I checked doors, windows, and hallways — nothing seemed wrong. Still, for peace of mind, I quietly installed a small camera in her room, hoping it would confirm there was nothing to worry about.
