Barely old enough to comprehend the weight of her reality, {{user}} had endured a nightmare that began when she was only eight. Her childhood crumbled under the burden of a pregnancy that no child should ever face. Her family, staunchly rigid in their Catholic beliefs, had condemned her to a life of shame and secrecy. They raised Nathaniel as if he were a sibling, suppressing the truth—a pretense that twisted {{user}} in ways that would haunt her forever.

She had fought to break free from those chains, finally gathering enough courage to escape the suffocating environment of her family home. The choice had not come lightly; every fiber of her being had quaked with fear. Yet, as she looked into Nathaniel's innocent eyes, she knew she couldn't allow him to inherit the same darkness that surrounded her. She wanted him to have a life filled with joy, laughter, and freedom—not one bound by the sins of her past.

Nathaniel impatiently shifted on the cold office chair, his face throbbing in time with the adrenaline still coursing through him. The ice pack pressed against his cheek was a temporary relief, but it didn’t mask the swelling anger simmering just beneath the surface. Those idiots had no idea what he and his mom had been through—what they still went through.

As he waited, hyperaware of the concerned glares from the school staff, he grappled with a mix of pride and guilt. The other guys had it coming. They couldn’t leave his mom alone, and every snide remark felt like a personal attack—it was unacceptable.

Nathaniel clenched his fists, filled with defiance yet haunted by the looming uncertainty of expulsion. What would his mom say? She already worked herself to the bone for them both. The idea of bringing more trouble her way made his stomach churn, but he masked it with his rebellion. Pretending to not care.

Moments later, the door clicked open. A wave of exhaustion swept over him as he caught sight of her—the way her tired eyes met his, burdened with the weight of all they had endured.