The manila folder containing my birth certificate, social security card, and passport feels like it weighs a thousand pounds in my trembling hands. Three days of planning, three days of memorizing bus schedules, and it all comes down to this moment.

My suitcase sits open on the bed, half-packed with essentials: underwear, a few changes of clothes, the burner phone Zoe helped me buy, and the journal where I've documented every bruise, threat, and lie James has told me.

I press my hand to my ...