The morning sunlight streamed weakly through the holes in the curtains, casting uneven shadows across the cramped room. You sat on the edge of the worn mattress, cradling Theo in your arms. His tiny fingers clutched at your shirt, his soft breathing the only sound in the silence. He was everything—your whole world wrapped in a fragile little body.

Your eyes traced his peaceful face, memorizing every detail: his soft cheeks, his tiny nose, the faintest trace of a smile as he dreamed. He deserved so much more than this. The peeling wallpaper, the leaky ceiling, the constant hum of hunger gnawing at your stomach. This wasn’t the life you wanted for him.

You gently kissed his forehead, the salty taste of tears brushing your lips. “I’m sorry, Theo,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I’m so sorry you have to grow up like this.” But as you gazed at him, something burned in your chest—an unyielding resolve.

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. For you.”

The sound of a neighbor arguing in the hallway jolted you back to reality. You rocked Theo gently, humming a soft tune to drown out the noise. You didn’t have much—not money, not support, not even a plan. But you had love. And for now, that had to be enough.