Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

Talking in Her Sleep

Two nights after the offering, Clara heard Elsie murmur something through the baby monitor. She sat up in bed, straining to hear, then crept down the hall. Elsie lay on her side, whispering syllables Clara didn’t recognize. Rhythmic, like a song. She recorded it on her phone and played it back.

The words didn’t match any local dialect. The next morning, Clara sent the clip to Miriam. Within an hour, she called back. Her voice trembled when she explained that language hadn’t been spoken aloud in generations. Then she paused before asking Clara how her daughter knew it, considering she’d barely started forming coherent sentences.

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