Why that exact corner?
He inspected the room carefully. He checked for drafts, hidden pipes, odd noises, shadows from passing cars. He moved furniture. He even repainted a small patch of the wall, wondering if there was some smell or texture attracting Ethan.
Nothing changed.
Then one night at 2:14 a.m., the baby monitor exploded with a scream so sharp it jolted David upright in bed.
He ran down the hall.
Ethan was standing in the corner again, trembling slightly, his tiny hands pressed against the wall. Not screaming anymore—just breathing fast, like he had woken from a nightmare.
David scooped him up immediately.
“It’s okay. You’re safe,” he whispered.
But Ethan twisted in his arms, trying to look back at the wall.
That was the moment David knew he needed help.
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