The next day unfolded as uneventfully as I had expected, with one concerning exception: the child looked noticeably sickly. His usually radiant complexion was pale, and there was a weariness in his movements that he struggled to hide. His condition worried me, though I refrained from questioning him outright. He was back in my room for our little playtime, sitting on my bed with a mixture of unease and curiosity.
When he finally climbed onto the soft mattress, his expression transformed entirely. He bounced lightly, testing the unfamiliar sensation as if he'd never experienced something like it before. For the first time in a while, his face lit up with genuine happiness, though it only made the contrast to his earlier demeanor more pronounced.
"This is so soft!" he squealed, his voice tinged with childlike wonder.
The innocence on his face made him look even younger, and I couldn't stop myself from asking the question lingering in my mind.
