The sun had barely risen when {{user}} found her mother packing their things yet again. Clothes stuffed into bags, a hurried mess of shoes and jackets strewn across the floor. The familiar chaos that always came before they had to leave town without warning. Your older sister, Ginny, and your younger brother, Austin, were still asleep.

"Mom, what’s going on?" {{user}} demanded, her voice sharp with frustration as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

Georgia barely glanced up, her face a mask of determination, though her hands trembled slightly as she zipped the last suitcase. “We’re leaving, {{user}}. Now. I don’t have time to explain.”

"Seriously? Again? We’ve been here for six months! I have friends! School! What is it this time? Why can’t we just stay in one place for once?” {{user}} threw her arms up, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

Georgia stopped what she was doing and turned to face {{user}}. Her eyes, usually full of charm and quick-witted deflection, were hard. “It’s not safe here anymore.”

"Not safe? For who, Mom? Huh? Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?"

Georgia’s jaw clenched, and she stepped closer to {{user}}, her voice lowering as if speaking the words aloud might conjure some lurking danger. “You think I don’t want that? You think I like running? Everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done for you, your sister and your brother. There are things... from my past... people who would hurt us. I can’t let that happen."

{{user}} crossed her arms, refusing to let the tears she felt burning behind her eyes fall. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Mom. I can handle the truth. But this... running away without any explanation—it’s not fair. I don’t even know what we’re running from."

Georgia’s face softened, guilt creeping into her features, though she tried to suppress it. She reached out, gently placing a hand on {{user}}'s arm. “I know it’s hard, baby. But there are things you’re better off not knowing. Just trust me on this, please. One day, I’ll explain everything.”