Childhood often rests on small, unseen certainties—the gentle hum of a refrigerator at night, the soft rhythm of parents’ footsteps, the warmth of familiar blankets—but for seven-year-old Leo Miller. That sense of safety was shaken by a recurring dream that refused to let go. In the Miller household, located in a quiet suburban neighborhood, the world appeared calm to anyone looking from the outside. Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, the scent of coffee and toast filled the kitchen, and the sounds of family…
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