It’s Always 2:13 a.m.

While Jake stepped into the kitchen to take a return call from the vet’s office, Mia stayed planted in the hallway, laptop balanced on her legs. Suddenly, a thought came to her! She jumped to the monitor’s archive folder and began checking the exact timestamps, night by night, going back to the very first time Ava had slept in the crib.

The pattern formed instantly. Every night, without fail, Nimbus entered the room at precisely 2:13 a.m. There was no variation. No early appearances. No lingering after dawn. Just that one moment, repeated with uncanny precision. Whatever was drawing him, he knew precisely when to come.