The little boy whimpered quietly in his sleep.
"Mama. Mama." He gripped the sheets a little at first, then clenched them tightly as the nightmare took a turn for the worse. "Mama! MAMA!"
"Nathan!" The voice came out of the darkness suddenly, startling the little boy from the nightmare. The young woman in the doorway ran towards him, and in his panic he shrank back.
"Mama," he repeated, fighting sobs. The girl faltered, seeing his response, then put one hand on his hair.
"It's me, Nathan honey," she murmured soothingly. The little boy blinked dark eyes. All at once he recognized her; he knew where he was and what had happened. He threw himself forward into her arms. The young woman hugged him tightly, rocking him carefully back and forth. "Quiet, sweetheart. It's all right. It's all right." The little boy grasped her sleeves in his fingers.
"I-- I had a dream--"
"It was only a dream," she said softly, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Dreams can't hurt you. I've told you that." There was a short silence.
"I know." He sounded sulky, sniffling through tears. "I want Mama." The young woman paused.
"Me too, Nathan." She kissed his mop of dark hair again and pulled away. "Are you okay? Do you think you can sleep now?" The little boy sniffed again.
"Yeah," he muttered, "I'm okay." The girl smiled gently.
"Don't worry about it," she murmured, running her hand over his hair. "Everyone has nightmares every now and then." The young woman patted his head and got to her feet. "Go on back to sleep, honey." His voice came from behind her, quiet.
"Okay. I'll try." She began for the door.
"Goodnight, Nathan." Her hand fell on the knob, but the little boy piped up again.
"Rebekah?" The girl winced visibly, then turned.
"What, Nathan?" she murmured, leaning against the doorframe. The little boy stared at her solemnly. The nightmare had been so frightening that tears were still rolling from his dark eyes, running streaks down his pale cheeks.
"Isaac says that's not my name anymore," the little boy whispered. "Isaac says my name is Micah. He says it is a name of great honor, because Micah was a prophet that the Lord spoke to." The young woman's lower lip trembled; then she smiled. It was a warm, gentle smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"That's right. I forgot. Goodnight -- Micah." The little boy nodded, then rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. The young woman watched him for a moment. "Nathan," she added under her breath, and shut the door behind her.