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don t know how to keep him safe." But there had been no answer, no comfort, no relief. She had been alone, as she had always been alone, and she had known that she had to find the strength within herself. She had looked at William, at his pale hair and his winter blue eyes, at the face that was so much like his father s. He was so small, so fragile, so utterly dependent on her. He had no one else, no one to turn to, no one to protect him. She was all he had. And she could not let him down. In the morning, Ruth had woken up with a new resolve. She had looked at William, at his pale hair and his winter blue eyes, and she had known that she would do anything, absolutely anything, to protect him. She would not give up. She would not give in. She would keep fighting, keep running, keep hoping. She would be the mother he deserved. She had packed their few belongings, taken William s hand, and walked out of the barn. She had no idea where she was going, no idea what she would do next. All she knew was that she had to keep moving, keep fighting, keep hoping. The sun was rising over the horizon, casting golden light across the fields. It was a new day, a new beginning, a new chance. And Ruth was determined to make the most of it. The days that followed were a blur of exhaustion and fear. Ruth had walked for miles, carrying William when he was too tired to walk, sleeping in ditches and under bridges when there was nowhere else to go. She had begged for food, taken odd jobs, done whatever was necessary to survive. She had thought about the woman on the Greyhound, about the town of Willow Creek, about the church with the white steeple. She had thought about the promise of safety, of peace, of a new beginning. It had become a beacon of hope, a light in the darkness, a reason to keep going. She had told William about Willow Creek, had painted a picture of a place where they could finally stop running, where they could find a home, where they could be happy. "It s a special place, baby," she had said. "A place where people can start over. A place where we can be safe." William had looked at her with his trusting eyes, his small face filled with hope. "Will we have a house, Mama? Will we have a garden? Will I have a room of my own?" Ruth had felt a surge of love so powerful it almost broke her. "Yes, baby," she had said. "We ll have all of that. I promise." But as the days turned into weeks, the hope began to fade. Ruth had grown weaker, more exhausted, more desperate. She had not been able to find work, had not been able to earn enough money for a bus ticket. She had been forced to walk, to sleep rough, to survive on scraps. She had begun to wonder if she would ever make it to Willow Creek, if the promise of a new beginning was just a dream, if there was any hope left at all. And then, one night, lying in a ditch on the side of the road, she had made a decision. She could not keep going like this. She was running out of strength, running out of time, running out of hope. She had to find a way to protect