Lily’s peculiar nocturnal experience
The next morning, while we were having breakfast, Lily interrupted the clinking of the cereal bowls with her delicate voice: “Mom, I heard noises last night.” Intrigued, I asked her what kind of noises they were, to which she shrugged and replied: “They sounded like whispering or scratching, I’m not sure.” John, on the other side of the table, commented in a dismissive tone that it was probably just the wind or a raccoon, but I couldn’t help feeling that there might be something more behind it.
Lily’s Peculiar Nightlife
John’s dismissive assurance
“Lily, don’t worry, it was nothing,” said João in a reassuring tone, although I remained suspicious; Max’s strange vigil in the yard, added to our daughter’s account, was hard to ignore. “Are you really sure, Dad?” she insisted, eager for some relief, and he just nodded calmly, trying to keep the situation light. “Believe me, raccoons make a lot of noise.” Still, as I glanced at Max – sitting by the door, his ears strained and his gaze fixed on the outside – I couldn’t shake the feeling that something definitely wasn’t right.
John’s Disdainful Assurance
