My younger brother, Tim, has refused to sleep in his bed ever since last autumn.
He keeps saying that the cow—our old family cow, Daisy—knows the truth.
It sounds strange, almost like something out of a ghost story, but it’s the truth as he sees it.
Before all this, Tim was the liveliest kid in the house. Always running around, laughing loudly, and never able to sit still for more than a minute. He was full of energy and mischief, the kind of boy who could turn even the quietest moments into chaos. But something changed after our visit to the farm last fall. Now, Tim speaks mostly in whispers, barely raising his voice. He insists on sleeping in the barn every night, curled up beside Daisy, the gentle old cow. Mom thinks it’s a bit odd but adorable. Dad says he’ll outgrow it soon enough. I’m not so sure. One night, I overheard Tim whispering into Daisy’s ear. His voice was trembling…
