I cried when my father finished his story and so did my brother, I'm sure of it. I was pressing my face against Mister Elephant's soft fur, and let his stuffed body soak up my tears.
"And it's been years since Nighttooth ate last time. So, if I were you, I'd go to sleep."
With that, my father finished his story, kissed us both goodnight before shutting the door hardly behind himself as he left. Now, maybe I should mention that my father isn't a cruel man. He's really quite kind. But, somewhat blunt, which this was a clear indication of.
And, of course my brother and I didn't sleep at all that night. We cried and cried and cried. We cried over William, we cried over that we cried and we cried over that we were still awake. When the morning finally came around and our mother came to wake us up for school, we were exhausted.
We got to stay at home that day, my mother didn't feel like it would be acceptable to send us away to school after being awake for almost twenty-four hours. Over breakfast, which consisted of hot chocolate and toast with jam, she found out why we had spent the night crying.
And to this day, I can't say I've ever seen my mother be that cross with my father.