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I knew right then: if she wouldn’t fight for herself, I’d have to fight for both of us.
That night, while Mike snored in their room like he hadn’t just shattered her heart, I packed my backpack with a toothbrush, my sketchbook, some clean socks, and the twenty dollars I’d saved from babysitting. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, only that I couldn’t stay silent, not like her.
The air was crisp, and my fingers were trembling as I texted one person I knew wouldn’t turn me away.
Jacob.
My dad’s best friend.
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