He still thinks he’s in his mother’s womb

He started to respond more.

Not dramatically—but subtly. His eyes began to focus longer. He started making small sounds, not quite coos, but something close. He began to recognize their voices, turning slightly toward them when they spoke.

It was progress.

But even then, there were moments that unsettled them.

One night, around 2 a.m., Amira woke to an unusual silence. No soft breathing through the baby monitor. No movement.

Her heart raced.

She rushed to the crib.

Youssef was there, exactly where she had left him—but curled so tightly, so perfectly, that for a split second, it looked unnatural. His arms wrapped around his body, his head tucked down, his spine curved in a near-perfect arc.

He wasn’t just sleeping.

He was… recreating something.

Amira gently reached out, touching his back.