The little girl hummed quietly to herself, sitting in the middle of her room surrounded by her fluffy toys. She hops them up and down, the toys walking casually over to a small coffee shop she built herself, china cups with toilet water waiting at the tables. 

Ding dong! The girl looked up, frowning and pouting as she set down her toys and got up to answer the door. She slid down the dusty banister wearing socks way too big for her. But my dad is at work, she wondered, saving many lives with his lime green superhero outfit! And a stethoscope!

The woman in the door frame looked strange. Her eyes melted and streaked down her cheeks.

“M-Manth..? Is that you?” She blubbers loudly. Manth tilts her head in confusion and tugs on her bear hoodie. The woman purses her lips, snot streaming from her nose. “There’s s-something wrong with your father. We need to get to the h-hospital.”

Suddenly Manth is surrounded by the relatives of her father. The hospital room itself was weeping, no moment of silence between gasps or shrieks or screams of sorrow.  

Her father is still wearing his lime green scrubs from working in the emergency room last night. The same room he’s bedridden in right now. He lay silent in the middle of it all. 

Then his chest went still.

Manth blinked up to the woman who brought her here. “Is dad still sleeping?”

The woman, Manth’s aunt, sniffs, sobbing, hiding behind a tear-stained handkerchief. “Yes, Manth. Dad’s just sleeping.”

Manth struggles to lift her leg up and over the bed barrier, hopping on one foot quickly before finally getting herself to lie down next to her dad. The relatives in the room collectively gasp.

She murmurs softly, “that’s okay.” She settles down next to her father, curling up and placing an arm around his waist, squeezing a toy tucked in her other, holding him close, closing her eyes. “I’ll wait for him to wake up.”