Dreamt the toys all started talking back

Last night I dreamt I was sorting a bin of donated stuffed animals, and every single one of them knew my name. Not in a cute way — in the way a kid knows which adult will believe them. One bear had the exact voice of a boy I fostered years ago, the one who ran away twice. I woke up feeling like I'd forgotten to check on something. Maybe that's just the job, though. You carry their voices around whether you want to or not.