The house was unusually quiet when Lala opened her sleepy eyes. Normally, mornings were filled with the sound of Dad moving around, making coffee, or calling her name in his cheerful voice. But today, silence hung in the air. Blinking and stretching, Lala looked around, expecting to see someone nearby. No one was there.
Her little heart began to race as she sat up, ears perked, listening carefully. Where was everyone? Lala padded softly across the room, her eyes wide with worry. She checked the kitchen first—empty. Then the living room—still empty. Her favorite spot by the window was quiet too. The toys were still scattered where she had left them last night, but the house felt too big, too still, without her family.
Confusion set in. Did they forget about her? Had something happened? Lala let out a small whimper and trotted toward the door, tail low. She pressed her nose against it, hoping for the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock. But nothing happened.
For a moment, she sat there, head tilted, unsure of what to do. Then she climbed onto the couch, curling up on a cushion, though she couldn’t quite relax. Every creak of the house made her ears twitch. Every shadow made her lift her head. She wasn’t used to being left alone.
But just as her little chest grew tight with worry, a sound broke the silence—the jingling of keys. Lala leapt up, her confusion melting into excitement. The door swung open, and Dad stepped in with a smile. “There you are, sleepyhead!” he said warmly.
Lala’s tail wagged furiously as she rushed to greet him, jumping into his arms. Relief washed over her. She hadn’t been forgotten after all. The fear that had knotted her heart was gone, replaced by the comfort of being home, together again.
Sometimes, even the bravest little ones just need the reassurance that they’re never truly alone.
