“No,” I whispered.

The word felt like a prayer and a denial at the same time.

“You’re not real,” I said, my voice cracking. “You can’t be here. You’re…”

I stopped myself before the word I had been saying for months could form.

The figure flinched at my voice. A soft sound escaped from under the blanket. A whimper. Then a word.

“Dad…?”

My heart didn’t just skip a beat. It seemed to stop and then slam back into my chest so hard I had to grab the edge of the desk.

I stood up slowly. My legs felt like they were made of stone. The room tilted, and for a second I was sure this was another one of those strange moments where the world went soft around the edges and I woke up later without remembering what had happened.