I was tucking in my two-year-old, the night winding down like any other. As I was about to leave his room, he looked up at me and said, “Goodbye, dad.” I was caught off guard. “No, we say good night,” I corrected him, thinking it was just a slip of the tongue.

But he was insistent, repeating, “I know. But this time it’s goodbye.” His words struck me unexpectedly, leaving me a bit uneasy. There was something about the way he said it—calm and certain—that gave me pause. It felt like more than just a simple mistake.

That night, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. I kept thinking about what he said. It felt like a sign, though I couldn’t explain why. I found myself getting up to check on him a few times, just to make sure he was still there, still safe and sound in his bed.

It was a small moment, but it left an imprint. I kept reassuring myself that he was fine, that it was nothing more than a child’s curiosity. Yet, his words lingered with me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that, in some strange way, they meant something more.