“Dream on, little dreamer,” I said as I kissed Atique’s forehead.

I prayed that things were better in his dreams, that he rode horses and played with fairies in a land of his own. Reality was getting darker every day. Three weeks had passed since the lockdown began. Outside the window, I could see the fires on the city walls and hear faint shouts outside if I strained my ears.

Things seemed to get worse every day. The room got dirtier every day and the servants stopped...