She goes still by instinct. Holding her breath to try and lesson the sound of her crying. Be still, be quiet. It's hard. It's hard to move an inch.

But nor does she want to worry him. So when she thinks she can keep her voice steady (she can't) she does her best to reassure him. "It's okay, you can go back to sleep."

Each word is pinched. Stilted in her effort to keep going but failing in the shakiness of the breath between it.