Where the Light Lives
He looked at the door.
“Does it lock?” he asked, and something in how he asked it told me not to answer fast.
“It has a lock,” I said carefully, “but only you can use it, from the inside, if you ever want it.
Nobody can lock it from the outside.
Nobody but you decides.” He thought about that.
“Can it stay open?” he asked.
“While I’m sleeping?