Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary of the Lost
With evening approaching and the temperature dropping, I knew I had to find shelter. I couldn't afford a motel, and I refused to go to a state shelter where I might risk losing custody of my kids if Caspian’s high-priced lawyers found out.
I drove to the outskirts of the city, where the suburban sprawl faded into older, industrial neighborhoods. On a quiet corner sat St. Jude’s Community Center. I had volunteered there once, years ago, before I married Caspian and became the perfect, polished trophy wife he demanded.
I parked the minivan, hauled the heavy garbage bag over my shoulder, and ushered the kids inside. The warmth of the lobby hit us like a physical wave. An elderly woman with kind, crinkly eyes and silver hair sat behind the front desk. Her name tag read Martha.
She looked at me, then at the three exhausted children, and finally at the garbage bag. She didn't ask for our story. She didn't offer pity. She just stood up and walked around the desk.
"You look like you've walked through a storm, dear," Martha said softly, kneeling down to Leo's eye level. "And who are these brave explorers?"
"I’m Sarin," my eldest said defensively, stepping slightly in front of her siblings. "And this is Leo and Maya. We are on an adventure."
Martha’s eyes softened. "I love adventures. And I happen to have the perfect base camp for you."
She led us down a long hallway to a small, private room at the back of the center. It was simple—two bunk beds, a small crib, a dresser, and a private half-bath. It was clean, warm, and safe.
"The kitchen is down the hall. We serve hot meals at six," Martha said. She turned to me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You are safe here, Coralie. Take a deep breath."
As soon as she closed the door, the dam broke. I collapsed onto the lower bunk, pulling my children into my arms. We held each other and cried in the quiet room, the sound of their soft whimpers mixing with my silent, racking sobs.
May you like
But as I lay awake that night, watching the moonlight filter through the high window, the sadness began to morph into something else. It became steel. Caspian had the money, the house, and the lawyers. My family had their comfort and their judgment.
But I had my children, my hands, and an unyielding fire in my chest.
