3AM. The highway is empty and the dashboard glows soft green against the dark. Theo is buckled in the backseat, cheek pressed against his stuffed rabbit, chest rising and falling slow. He has no idea how brave his mother just was. You grip the wheel and watch the exit sign blur past. Somewhere new. The word feels fragile and enormous at the same time. This morning he asked you why Daddy yells. You had no answer. By midnight, the bags were packed and the door was closed behind you. The road ahead is unknown. But it is yours. And somewhere out there, a life is waiting — one where someone will look at you and Theo and choose you both, every single day.