Her Christmas Wish
The soft glow of the night-light filled the room with warmth, casting gentle shadows across walls covered in drawings, stickers, glitter projects, ticket stubs, and the growing collection of photographs Malaya insisted on hanging each month.
Their little house wasn't fancy, but this room—this warm, bright space—was the safest haven Laila had ever created. It smelled faintly of cocoa butter, and the lavender spray Malaya insisted helped her sleep, and the quiet hum of the small heater made the entire space feel like a cocoon.
"Okay, nugget," Laila murmured softly, adjusting the unicorn-print blanket around her daughter. "Time for bed. We have a long road trip ahead of us tomorrow. And you kno
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