“You can leave the door open a little.”

“I can do that for you.”

She rolled onto her side.

The acorn light cast a small round shadow on the wall shaped like a pear.

I sat in the chair by the window until her breathing shifted, slow and steady, one hand loosely holding Bunny’s ear.

The house was quiet the way it gets at the end of a long day, the refrigerator humming downstairs and a car going by on Mill Street.

I checked the plug once, and the light stayed warm beneath my palm.

Chloe’s face had gone soft with sleep, her mouth slightly open, no medicine in her body, no lock on her door.

I drew the door nearly shut, leaving it open a crack.

The yellow light burned all night long, and at last Chloe was sound asleep.