I need to start by saying this: I don’t believe in ghosts.

I’m practical. I schedule dentist appointments six months ahead. I keep extra batteries in the junk drawer. When my daughter Lily has a nightmare, I check the closet, check under the bed, and prove to her that monsters aren’t real.

That’s who I am.

So when the baby monitor crackled at exactly 2:00 a.m. three nights ago and I heard Lily speaking in her sleep, I assumed it was just that—sleep talking.

But it wasn’t babbling.It wasn’t scattered sounds.It was fluent.

Clear. Structured. Confident And it was in a language she had never learned.

I am absolutely certain of that.

I went to her room and touched her shoulder gently. She opened her eyes immediately, calm and steady.

“Did you have a bad dream, baby?” I whispered.

“No, Mom,” she said, rolling over. “I wasn’t dreaming.”

The next morning she was her usual bright, syrup-faced self, asking for waffles and park time. When I gently asked if she remembered anything from the night before, she just shook her head.

“I don’t remember.”I told myself I was overtired. The second night, it happened again. Same time. Same strange language.

When I woke her, she looked at me like I was the one behaving oddly.

I called a child therapist the next day. She explained that sleep talking is common. Children sometimes repeat sounds they’ve heard from television or random exposure.

I wanted to believe her. But something felt… intentional. On the third night, I climbed into Lily’s bed before midnight and waited.