Some stories are written in soft beds and sunny windowsills. Abbie’s was written in shadows, in the hush of an abandoned SEPTA station, in the quiet moments between survival and hope.
For two years, she shielded her babies from the worst of the world, sacrificing comfort for protection, hunger for safety, fear for love. She curled around them on the cold concrete, her warmth the only thing keeping them safe from the unknown pressing in around them. But never—not once—did she falter. Never did she stop fighting for them. Never did she let the darkness steal her gentleness.
Now, for the first time, Abbie can breathe. She can rest. She can allow herself to dream of a life beyond survival—a life where she isn’t just the protector, but the one being protected. She doesn’t ask for much. A quiet home. A soft blanket. A warm hand that will remind her that she is loved, not just for her strength but for the sweetness she has carried through it all.
She has been everything for her little ones. Isn’t it time someone is everything for her?