“It’s all right, it’s OK. You’re OK. It’s just a dream.” Michael put the bedside light on and Gina sat up, her breath coming in deep gasps, tears gushing down her cheeks. He held her close until he knew she was awake, and the sobbing had stopped. He glared at the glowing figures on the clock. Just after six. He often wondered how the children slept through the noise.
“The sweat’s pouring off you. What on earth was that about?”
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