In bed that night, Daniel lies awake. Judy is nestled against him. The heat from her body is stifling and, assuring himself that she is asleep, he edges away.

He wonders what if and lets himself walk down that trail for a while. In the next room, a small cry born of a nightmare. He slips out of bed, shaking the stories away, and finds his way in the dark to his young daughter's room.

"Daddy," she says as his shadow flows over the bed like a blanket. She half-opens her eyes and her mouth curves into a smile that melts his heart into toasted marshmallow. He cannot imagine his life without her and her brother. Without Judy and sweet-smelling sheets.

"Just a bad dream, sweetie," he says.