The booth cushion was torn, the floor smelled like mop water and fries, and my back ached from holding Milo for hours—but it was warm, and it was open.

I don’t think anyone even noticed us at first.
The night shift girl refilled my water twice without asking questions,
and when the manager came out, he just gave a nod and kept walking.
I think he recognized me from the breakfast rush.

I didn’t mean for us to end up here.
We were supposed to stay with my cousin for a couple weeks,
just until I found something steady.
But she had a fight with her boyfriend, and suddenly we were
“too much stress” to keep around.

I packed everything I could in a backpack,
wrapped Milo in my hoodie,
and walked until I saw that red neon glow.

He slept most of the night.
Curled into my chest, breathing slow and soft like nothing in the world could touch him.

I stared out the window,
thinking about how I was going to make it through tomorrow.
My double shift starts at six.
I’m already behind on daycare payments.
And I’m still not sure if I’ll get my full hours next week.

But I kept telling myself:
just one more shift. Just one more night.

And maybe—just maybe—
I’ll find a place that lets us stay longer than a couch or a parking lot.