Fredrik Backman

Kira remembers every inch of the descent into darkness. The greatest terror of every parent, waking up and listening out for small breaths. And every night you feel so foolish when you hear them, as usual, for worrying about nothing. ‘How did I become someone like this?’ you think. You promise yourself that you’ll relax, because of course you know that nothing’s going to happen. But the following night you still lie there wide awake, staring up at the ceiling and shaking your head, until you tell yourself, ‘Just tonight, then.’ And you creep out of bed and put your palms to your children’s little chests to feel them rising and falling.