There is something in the nursery

A year after burying her four-year-old daughter, Mara returns to the house she once called home - the house where grief still lingers in the walls like trapped breath. The nursery hasn't changed. The toys are still waiting. And the baby monitor still hums softly in the dark, even though there's no one left to listen.

That first night, Mara feels a small body crawl into bed beside her. Tiny arms. Warm skin. Soft breathing against her shoulder.

She tells herself it's grief playing tricks on her.
A dream.
A memory that refuses to die.

Then the monitor wakes up.

Movement detected in the nursery.

Because whatever is curled against her in the dark...
didn't come from that room.

And whatever is inside the nursery...

...isn't alone.

A slow, chilling descent into maternal obsession - where love becomes an open door, and something answers from the other side.