The traffic was the same.
Our apartment was still there.
But the meaning of going home was different.
Home was no longer the place where I was expected to ignore my daughter’s fear to keep an adult comfortable.
It was the place where she could say, “Don’t make me get off,” and know I would listen.
And sometimes the decision that saves you does not begin with certainty.
Sometimes it begins with staying on the bus for one more stop.
