The rusted minivan SUV tore down an endless stretch of desolate highway, its bullet-riddled rear window catching the first light of dawn. Billie gripped the wheel with bruised knuckles, her jaw clenched, eyes flicking between the road ahead and the headlights growing in the rearview mirror. Ariana, blood streaking her cheek, sat beside her, calmly loading a pistol with practiced hands. In the backseat, wedged between duffel bags stuffed with cash and stolen passports, a toddler’s car seat sat still, a worn stuffed rabbit dangling over the edge. The SUV screeched to a stop at a long-abandoned gas station, dust billowing around them. Billie yanked open the back door, reaching for the bags, but her fingers brushed against the bunny plush. For a moment, she hesitated. Ariana slammed the trunk shut, snapping her back to reality. No time. Leaving behind the car, the cash, and the past that refused to die, they disappeared into the breaking dawn—two former mafia mothers running from everything, including themselves.