When my daughter Jane dropped off my grandson, Tommy, claiming she had a sudden work trip, I didn’t think much—until I opened his suitcase. It held clothes for all seasons, medications, and an envelope of cash labeled with my name. I tried calling her, but her phone was off. Days passed, and no one had seen her. Then she video-called. She looked exhausted and vague, saying she was on a secret assignment but couldn’t share details.
Later, I learned the truth: Jane had been hiding Tommy’s father—a dangerous man who had resurfaced. Fearing for her son’s safety, she left him with me and erased any sign of him from her home. Weeks later, Jane returned, still weary and secretive, but grateful. She promised she was safe as she took Tommy home. I watched them leave, silently praying the shadows she escaped would never find their way back.
