Chamroeun puffed his little lips, wobbling with dramatic effort as sounds burst out urgently today.
He was not crying from pain but from longing that filled his chest so deeply.
Each shaky syllable was a demand, a command for love to return at once now.
He wanted Mommy, and suddenly Daddy too, as if both could be summoned by sound.
His fat lips trembled, stretching wide with effort as he called again and again again.
The room echoed with tiny shouts that felt far larger than his body today somehow.
Caregivers paused, hearts tightening at the raw urgency in his voice that shook them all.
Chamroeun stamped one foot, unsteady but determined to be understood by every listening heart nearby.
His cheeks puffed again, red with effort, breath catching between sharp calls for his parents.
Mommy’s name broke first from his mouth like a cracked bell ringing with lonely hope.
Daddy followed quickly after, louder now, fueled by rising frustration inside his tiny shaking chest.
Tears finally spilled, sliding down rounded cheeks without slowing the shouting that filled the room.
It was not just noise, but a call for belonging and safety in that moment.
Every scream carried need, every breath a question only parents could answer for him now.
A caregiver lifted him gently, pressing him close to steady shaking in his small body.
Still Chamroeun searched the doorway with wide eyes wet with hope that refused to fade.
His lips moved again, softer now, but the names remained urgent on every fragile breath.
The shouting slowed into broken sobs that shook his tiny ribs with quiet burning ache.
Comfort could hold him, but only Mommy and Daddy could quiet the storm inside fully.
Until they came, Chamroeun would keep calling with all he had in his tiny soul.
