Chapter 2: The First Night
I drove without a clear destination for nearly twenty minutes, rain hissing under the tires, Lily silent in the back seat. The emergency bag sat on the floor beside her—one change of clothes for each of us, basic toiletries, a thin envelope of cash I had kept for years without fully admitting why.
When the shock thinned enough for practical thought, I pulled into the parking lot of a mid-range extended-stay hotel near the freeway. It was clean, anonymous, and far enough from the townhouse that Marcus would not find us by accident. I paid for three nights in cash at the front desk while Lily stood close against my side, still in her damp coat.
The room was small and plain: two beds, a kitchenette, a window that looked out on the parking lot. Lily sat on the edge of the nearest bed and watched me lock the door, chain it, and set the bag down.
“Are we sleeping here?” she asked.
“Yes. Just for a little while.”
“Is Daddy coming?”
“No.”
She processed that in silence, then carefully unzipped her backpack and took out the small stuffed fox she had carried since she was three. She held it against her chest and did not ask anything else.
I made her toast in the kitchenette toaster and sat with her while she ate. Outside, the rain softened to a steady drizzle. Inside, the room felt temporary and safe in equal measure. After she fell asleep in the far bed, still in her clothes, I sat in the chair by the window and stared at the dark lot below.
May you like
I had left with almost nothing.
I also knew, with a clarity that surprised me, that I would not be going back.
