Holding the secret tight

Sylvester lay in bed, wide-eyed and restless, staring at the ceiling. It was midnight, and he toyed with the idea of fleeing to another town—a sudden escape to throw off his stalker. But with his mother's high profile, it wouldn't take long for his new location to leak.

His thoughts were shattered by the piercing sound of his phone. Who could be calling at this ungodly hour? He rose and walked to the living room, cautiously answering the phone, "Hello?"

"Sorry for calling you so late, Vester," his mother's voice came through, tinged with guilt. "I had a nightmare and needed to hear your voice. I hope I didn't disturb your sleep."

"I was still up, Mom, no worries," Sylvester reassured her, hearing her exhale in relief. "What was the nightmare about?"