THE PLACE I COULDN’T LEAVE Pebblestone was not my dream house. It was the house I would have left, if leaving had still been an option. Old and unfinished, held together by hope, Bunnings receipts, and whatever strength I hadn't already spent keeping two small boys alive. The bathroom leaked. The kitchen looked like a tradie had gone to smoko and never come back. Too expensive. Too broken. Too much. And still, I stayed. Because I couldn't afford to fail. Too much else already

I went into labour nine days before I let myself give birth. My body knew what my mind refused to admit: I wasn’t safe yet. Every night the contractions started, sharp and insistent, and every night I clamped down on them with the kind of strength you only find when you’re cornered. Not here. Not now. Not with him in the house. Not while danger breathed on the other side of the wall. I paced the hallway in the dark, fists pressed into my ribs, whispering bargains to a ch