Jack awoke with a strangled scream caught in the back of his throat. He was panting, his mouth dry. His heart thudded so hard in his chest he thought of trapped birds. Sweat coated his naked body, and the striped sheets twisted around him like snakes, constricting. He couldn’t move one of his legs.
He whimpered.
There were footsteps pounding quickly toward him, outside his door. His mother. He listened as she stopped, presuming she was doing the same—listening—just outside his door. He could see her out there, her worried face, clutching her bathrobe shut at her chest. He wished she’d go away but knew there wasn’t a chance.
He must have screamed louder than he thought.
There was a gentle tap at his door, barely loud enough for Jack to hear.
“Jack? Honey, are you okay?”
He sighed and
