The Baby Monitor

I babysit for a family every Friday night.

Their daughter, Lily, is four.

She's sweet, quiet, and always asleep by eight.

The parents have one rule.

"Keep the baby monitor on. Sometimes she talks in her sleep."

No problem.

One night, around 10 PM, I heard Lily giggling through the monitor.

Then she whispered, "Stop, you're making me laugh."

I smiled. Kids have weird dreams.

A few minutes later, she whispered again.

"Okay, but you have to hide when she comes upstairs."

I stopped smiling.

I went to check on her.

She was asleep in bed, facing the wall.

Nobody else was there.

I returned downstairs.

At 11 PM, the monitor crackled.

A small voice whispered, "She's coming."

Then silence.

I checked the screen.

Lily was still sleeping.

I was about to turn the monitor off when I heard her voice again.

Only this time, it wasn't coming from the monitor.

It came from the hallway behind me.

"You didn't hide."

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