A month after adopting Jennifer, she looked up at me with wide, serious eyes and whispered, “Mommy, don’t trust Daddy.” Her words echoed in my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like a vine. My heart stuttered. My hands, steady just moments ago, clenched around the edge of the kitchen counter. I stared down at her tiny frame, her soft curls framing her delicate face. She was only four years old. Could she really understand what she was saying? I knelt beside her, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “Sweetheart,

Minutes before I walked down the aisle to marry the man I thought I’d spend my life with, my world shattered. A truth so devastating unraveled that I couldn’t face him, our guests, or even myself. So, I ran. Tears streaked my face, my wedding dress billowing behind me as I sprinted down the highway, leaving behind everything I had once dreamed of. We’ve all heard stories about runaway brides, but I never imagined I’d be one of them. I had spent years believing that life would eventually fall into

The salty sea breeze brushed against my skin as I jogged through the sleepy seaside town, my expensive running shoes making soft thuds against the worn sidewalks. The town was nothing like the high-rise chaos of Silicon Valley, where my life revolved around deadlines, investors, and never-ending meetings. My sister had practically shoved me onto the plane, insisting I needed this trip. “You work too much. Go somewhere quiet. Breathe for once,” she had said. And now, here I was, three days into my forced vacation, still feeling like an