Ava Was Never Afraid

Back in the hallway, the baby monitor still glowed quietly on the floor. Ava had stirred slightly, turning her head in her sleep, but she hadn’t cried. She hadn’t cried once since this began. Mia knelt beside the monitor, watching her daughter’s soft movements.

For a moment, Ava’s fingers twitched, and her arm stretched toward Nimbus, resting against the snake’s coiled side like it was something familiar. Mia felt a chill, not from fear, but from its clarity. This wasn’t new for Ava. She hadn’t reacted like she was startled or confused. It was almost like—somewhere, somehow—she already knew Nimbus was there.