In the middle of the night, I wake up from a bad dream and cry. I am holding him tightly as I cry. I can still feel his little body, embracing me. I wake up…it is past 3 am. I am thirsty. I suddenly remember that I am in Madrid, in Senora Fidalgo’s house, that I am alone and frightened. Nothing is familiar…I am not in my own skin yet. But the bed is warm and comforting. I remind myself of the happy streets, the people, the coffee, the fresh air outside, and close my eyes. I lie awake for hours, unable to return to my broken sleep.