Izzy married young, thinking love could fix everything. It didn’t take long for the man she loved to turn cruel. She stayed at first because she was pregnant, then because she was scared, and then because he made her believe no one else would want her. But the day she saw her husband scream at their daughter for spilling juice, something inside her broke.

Now, she’s been secretly planning to run—saving small bills, memorizing bus routes, and collecting motel names from old receipts. She knows it won’t be easy, bouncing from place to place, but freedom—no matter how unstable—is better than living in fear.

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The house was silent except for Mark’s loud snoring down the hall. Izzy slipped quietly into her daughter’s room, clutching a small backpack. Moonlight fell across her little girl’s bed. Izzy knelt beside her, brushing curls from her face.

“Sweetheart, Wake up, baby.”

She whispered, voice trembling. Her daughter stirred, eyes sleepy and confused. Izzy smiled faintly through tears.

“We’re leaving, okay? Just us.”

She lifted her into her arms, holding her tight before glancing toward the door. Her heart pounded. The $10,000 she’d stolen from Mark’s safe was tucked in her pocket—enough to disappear for a while.

“Quiet now. Don’t wake Daddy.”

She whispered, kissing her daughter’s forehead. And with that, Izzy carried her into the night, praying this time they wouldn’t have to come back.