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Rowan woke up with a gasp, like the air had been stolen out of her lungs. Her room was too dark, even with the little blue nightlight glowing faintly in the corner, and her bed felt wrong, too cold on one side where she must’ve rolled over in her sleep. She blinked at the ceiling, heart beating way too fast, and clutched Bunbun the bunny tighter against her chest.
She didn’t remember the dream exactly, just the feeling. That heavy, twisty kind of scared, like something was chasing her and no one was coming to help. That she was alone. Lost or maybe forgotten. She stayed really still for a moment, trying to hear the usual sounds, but the hallway was quiet. No soft footsteps. No low voices. No light from under the bedroom door across the hall.
“Mama?” she called out, just above a whisper. Nothing. She sat up a little straighter. “Mommy?” she tried again. Still no answer.
Rowan rubbed at one eye with the heel of her hand, sniffled once, and pushed the covers off her legs. Her pajama pants were twisted around her knees from all the tossing and turning, and the floor felt cold when her toes touched it.
She slid off the bed, dragging Bunbun along by one arm. The nightlight didn’t help much. It made weird shadows on the walls and didn’t light up the hallway at all. Still, she padded out into the dark, trying not to cry yet.
The big bedroom door was open. Empty. No one in the big bed, no clothes on the floor, no sleepy mommies. The bathroom light was off, too.
Rowan checked the living room next, peeking over the arm of the couch like she always did when she was playing hide-and-seek. Nobody there.
The kitchen was the scariest. The moon made strange patterns on the tile, and the fridge made its low humming noise like it always did, but everything else was still. Too still.
And that’s when she started crying. Quiet at first, just little hiccups and big gulps of air, but it felt big. Like the dream had snuck out of her brain and was hiding in the corners of the house. She turned in a slow circle, her voice finally cracking.
“Mama?” she called again, louder this time. “Mommy?” No one answered. She hugged Bunbun close and whispered, “I think they got took.” Her eyes burned. Rowan wiped her nose with Bunbun’s ear.
She didn’t like feeling like this—small and way too full of scared feelings. Her cheeks were hot and her hands were cold, and even though she was standing in the middle of her own kitchen, it didn’t feel safe without her moms there.
That’s when she remembered Auntie Pen always said Rowan could call her any time. Even if it was late. Even if it was silly. Even if she was scared.
Rowan climbed up carefully onto the couch, one knee at a time, and stretched out across the cushions until her fingers touched the tablet on the side table. It was a little heavy, and the screen was dark, but she knew how to turn it on. Her moms had shown her lots of times.
It lit up in her lap, and she tapped the pink heart with Auntie Pen’s picture like she’d been told. It rang once. Twice.
Then Penelope’s face filled the screen, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy pink scrunchie, glasses slipping a little down her nose. The background behind her was softly lit. “Rowan?” she said instantly, her voice going all warm and gentle. “Pumpkin, what’s going on, sweetheart?”
Rowan’s bottom lip wobbled. “I waked up and they’re gone,” she said, voice breaking. “Mama and Mommy are gone and I looked in all the places and I think they got taken or lost or maybe they forgot—”
“Oh baby girl, no no no,” Penelope said, cutting in fast but soft. “Shhh, I’ve got you. I promise, no one forgot you.”
Rowan sniffled hard. “I looked in the bed and the couch and the kitchen. They’re not there.”
“Okay, okay. That was very smart of you,” Penelope said, nodding encouragingly. “You did all the right things. That’s a very big girl move, calling me.”
Rowan curled in a little tighter on the couch, still clutching her bunny. Her tears were quieter now, but her breathing still came in hiccups.
“Did you check the office?” Penelope asked gently.
Rowan blinked at the hallway. “The door is closed.”
Penelope smiled kindly. “Mmhmm. That sounds like a Mommy and Mama hideout to me. You think maybe they’re in there with the door closed so they didn’t wake you up?”
“I don’t know…” Rowan said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Do you want to check?” Penelope tilted her head. “I’ll stay right here. Promise.” Rowan was quiet for a second. Then she nodded. “Okay, Roro. Take me with you.”
She climbed off the couch carefully, still holding the tablet, and padded back down the hall, slower this time. The office door was just a little bit open at the bottom. She hadn’t noticed that before.
She stood in front of it for a second, breathing slow, like her mommies always taught her to do when she felt scared. Then she pushed the door open. It creaked just a little as she pushed it.
Inside, papers were spread across the floor like a game, and Emily was sitting cross-legged in the middle of them, glasses on, pen in her mouth. You were curled up on the little loveseat, blanket over your legs, a mug in your hand. You both looked up at the exact same time.
Emily’s pen dropped to the floor. “Roro?”
And just like that, everything cracked open. Rowan let out a big, gasping sob and ran forward, tablet still clutched in one hand and Bunbun in the other. Emily was already on her knees with her arms wide open by the time Rowan crashed into her, wrapping both arms around her mama’s neck like she’d never let go again.
“Baby,” Emily whispered, hugging her tight. “Oh, baby, what happened?”
Rowan buried her face in Emily’s shoulder and cried harder. “I thought you were gone!”
You were beside them in an instant, hands smoothing Rowan’s hair, kisses pressed on the top of her head. “Oh, sweet girl,” you murmured. “We’re so sorry. We didn’t know you woke up.”
“I checked all the places,” Rowan hiccuped. “The kitchen and the couch and the bed. The door was closed.” Her voice cracked again on the last word.
Emily pulled back just enough to cup Rowan’s face. “We were trying not to wake you,” she said softly. “We didn’t mean to scare you, lovebug.”
“We’re always here,” you said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Even if a door’s closed.”
Rowan nodded miserably, then looked down at the tablet still glowing faintly in her hand. “I called Auntie Pen,” she mumbled. “She said to check the office.”
Emily smiled, a little wet around the eyes now. “Smart girl. Can I see?”
Rowan turned the screen so they could both see Penelope’s face, still on the call, still watching with shiny eyes.
“Hi, sugarplum,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “I told you they were just a door away.”
Emily leaned in so Penelope could see her too. “Thanks for being there, Pen.”
“Always,” Penelope said. “Now go get that baby wrapped up in a blanket and smothered in love, please. I’ll sleep better knowing she’s warm and snuggled.”
“You heard her,” you said, already reaching for Rowan. “Come here, baby. You need some cocoa and couch cuddles.”
Rowan sniffled, her face already calming, and let herself be scooped up again. She still held Bunbun in one hand and clutched your shirt in the other, finally starting to feel like the nightmare was gone for good.
“We’ll leave the door open next time,” Emily whispered to her.
“And I’ll knock next time,” Rowan whispered back.
Emily smiled. “Deal.”
Five minutes later, Rowan sat snug between her moms, wrapped in her favorite fuzzy blanket. Her arm was looped around Emily’s waist, and her cheek rested against the soft cotton of your sweatshirt.
Emily held a small mug of warm cocoa with both hands and helped Rowan guide it to her lips. “Tiny sips,” she whispered.
Rowan sipped. It was sweet and milky and made her tummy feel warm all the way down. Her eyes were heavy now. The kind of heavy that came after crying, after being held close, after hearing again and again that she was safe.
“I thought the dream was real,” she mumbled, half-asleep already.
“I know,” you said, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Dreams can feel really real, but no matter what happens in them, we’re always right here.”
Emily moved to tuck Rowan’s hair behind her ear. “Even when the doors are closed.”
“Even if it’s late,” you added. “Even if we’re quiet. We’re never far away.”
Rowan nodded a little. Her eyes fluttered closed, then opened again just enough to say, “I think I was brave.”
“The bravest,” Emily said without hesitation.
“The absolute bravest,” you echoed, smiling.
Rowan yawned so big her whole face scrunched up and sighed as she curled tighter against you and Emily. Then she slept, safe between the people who would always find her, even in the middle of a bad dream.