A woman holding her little son out on the streets late at night | Source: MidjourneyI didn’t even take off my house slippers or robe: I was in such a hurry. Barry began to stir, crying softly. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to calm him with my sleeve. It was dark and cold, but I kept running, pushing through the fear and the exhaustion.My parents lived in the neighboring district. It wasn’t far, but it felt like an eternity with the weight of my baby in my arms and the panic in my heart. I finally reached their house, banging on the door with my fists and feet, gasping for breath.A scared and upset woman standing outside a house with her little son late at night | Source: Midjourney “Mom! Dad! Please, open up!” I shouted, my voice cracking.The door swung open, and my mother stood there, eyes wide with shock. “Candice? What on earth?” “Please, let me in. I… I can’t go back,” I managed to say, my voice trembling. They ushered me inside, and my father took Barry from my arms, cooing softly to calm him down.
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