>Mallory
It was night. The only light in the room came from the bluish glow of the moon. I looked down at my son, sleeping so peacefully. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady movements. I pulled the blanket higher over him, tucking it around his shoulders so he wouldn't wake in the middle of the night cold. I kissed his forehead. He shifted slightly, eyes fluttering, but stayed asleep. I smiled faintly and patted him once, then stepped back.
The door clicked shut behind me, and as soon as it did, I collapsed to the floor, sitting awkwardly—knees bent, feet tucked under me, hands covering my face. I didn't even try to hide it.
Too much had happened today. I was tired. Completely, utterly drained.
