In the days prior to Christmas, I got sick. On Christmas Eve, I was still sick. Had been running a fever off and on for several days.

I woke up in the night. There was someone in my room. At the time, my bed was next to my bedroom door. There was a man outlined in the doorway. There was still light coming down the hall from the living room, and I could hear the television. My parents were still awake.

He pulled the covers back up to my chin, and touched my forehead, as a concerned parent does when checking for fever. His hands were old – wrinkled and spotted with liver spots. He told me I would feel better in the morning and left the room. I fell asleep again.

The next morning, Christmas Day, I woke up feeling better as promised. I asked my parents where my grandfather was. I was sure that was who was in the room the night before. My grandparents were not there. They had not visited the night before. No one, besides my parents, was at the house the night before.

My parents are convinced it was just a fever dream. I know there was someone there…but who?