Hailey's pov
The next day arrived with a soft gray light that felt too gentle for the heaviness in my chest.
Mom’s suitcases were already lined up by the front door, black and neat, ready for the airport. We made sure none of dad's men were around, she needed to be safe, she had seen so much, she's been hurt a lot.
She stood in the living room in her favorite navy coat, the one she’d worn on every important day of my life, smoothing her hair in the mirror one last time.
I watched her from the couch, knees pulled up, trying to memorize the way she moved...how she always tucked a strand behind her ear when she was nervous, how her smile tilted slightly to the left when she was trying not to cry.
She turned to me, eyes shining.
“You ready for this?” I asked, voice quieter than I meant
