No place left to hide

New York City never slept. In the first days of December, the cold sank into the concrete like it belonged there—settling deep in the bones of the streets, whispering through alleyways, and biting at the skin of anyone who didn’t have somewhere warm to be. The skyline gleamed in the distance, a mirage of wealth and warmth that didn’t stretch this far.

Here in the South Bronx, the glow dimmed into flickering streetlamps. Steam coiled up from manholes. The sidewalks cracked from years of pressure. Graffiti stretched across bricks like old scars. The cold was sharper here. It got into your teeth. The front door of the run-down apartment slammed open with a sharp bang that echoed down the hallway like a gunshot. “You think you’re some kinda victim, huh?” his voice barked out, already rising. “You sit there with that blank little face, thinkin’ you’re better than everyone else just ‘cause you’re quiet. I ain’t buyin’ it. I ain’t never bought it.” She flinched at the volume but didn’t speak. She never did.

His boots were heavy against the cracked linoleum floor, stomping toward her like the beat of a war drum. “I shoulda tossed you out years ago. Just a mouth to feed—even if you don’t use it. Lazy, ungrateful little thing. Not even mine.” He spat the last word like it was poison. She stood by the wall, small and still, clutching Rune in one hand and her backpack in the other. Her hoodie sleeves were too long, hiding her bruised wrists, the faded cigarette burns on her arms.“I come home, I work my ass off, and what do I see? You. Still breathin’, still takin’ up space. Like you belong here. Like you deserve a damn thing under this roof.”Her eyes stayed down. Always down. “You think I don’t see the way you act? Creepin’ around like a damn ghost. Not talkin’. Not answerin’. Like you’re better than the rest of us. I ain’t feedin’ a damn parasite anymore. Not when you got nothin’ to offer but them dead eyes.” He shoved her shoulder, hard. Her back hit the doorframe. She didn’t make a sound.

That made him angrier. “Go ahead—stay silent. Like always. Makes it real easy for me.” His hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her forward. Her backpack slipped halfway off, and Rune dropped to the floor. Her eyes flicked to the bunny—worn from too many years, too many tears—but she didn’t bend to pick him up. She knew better than to move without permission. The door flew open with a final jerk. Cold air rushed in, biting at her cheeks. He dragged her forward until she stumbled out onto the frozen stoop in her socks. “You’re eighteen now. Legal. Don’t gotta keep you. And I won’t. Not another day. Not another second.” She stood still as he threw her bag out after her.

“You’re not wanted here, you hear me? You never were. You’re not mine. Never were. Shoulda stayed wherever the hell you came from.” The door slammed shut behind her. And just like that, she was outside. Alone. It was freezing. The kind of cold that got into your ribs and stayed there. Her breath formed little clouds in the air as she slowly bent to pick up Rune and tucked him beneath her arm. The pavement beneath her socks was icy. She tried not to let it show. Don’t cry. Don’t make a sound. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked.Not because she had anywhere to go. But because staying would’ve been worse.

Her feet took her away from the apartment building. Past shuttered storefronts and sagging street signs. Past alleys that reeked of piss and stale beer. The tenement wasn’t far. She’d seen it before—boarded-up windows, sagging roof, no one coming in or out. A place the city forgot. Just like her. She slipped inside through a side door, just wide enough for her to squeeze through. It smelled like mold and dust and something rotten. But it was empty. And empty was safe.

She made her way to the top floor, picking the corner furthest from the broken window. She laid out her thin blanket, sat cross-legged, and pulled Rune onto her lap. Her fingers were red from the cold. She tucked them under her arms. No one was coming to look for her. No one would ask where she’d gone. She was alone. But she always had been.

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