In the dead of night, I was once again jolted awake, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest.
Just as I was thinking of getting up to pour myself a glass of water, I heard a sharp beep-beep coming from downstairs.
Rushing down, I saw it was my daughter's electronic toy car, moving on its own. Its lights flashed intermittently, and the sound was piercing. I quickly turned it off, careful not to wake her. The house fell silent again, but a shiver ran down my spine.
Ten minutes later, the toy car sprang to life again.
This time, I removed the batteries completely, and it finally stopped.
I stared at the little vehicle for a long time.
In the darkness, its plastic shell reflected a cold glint, as if it were staring back at me—watching.