Maybe they understood the truth that Emily could never bring herself to say out, loud. Their father had left before they were born, vanishing without a second thought, without a word. They had been nothing more than a mistake in his eyes.
Emily shifted, adjusting the blanket over her daughter’s as the wind picked up. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the silver ring on her hand, the only reminder of a past that felt like another lifetime. It had once symbolized love, promises, a future that never came to be.
Now, it was just a cold piece of metal against her skin, a reminder of what she had lost. A sharp gust of wind blew through the alley, causing Sophie to shiver. Emily quickly wrapped her arms tighter around them.
Close your eyes, my loves. I’ll keep you warm. Sophie buried her face into Emily’s side, while Lily held onto her tightly.
Mommy? Yes, baby? Will things ever get better? Emily closed her eyes, pressing a lingering kiss to Lily’s forehead. Yes, my love, they will, I promise. She had no idea how she would keep that promise, but she had to, for them.
The city never truly slept. It pulsed with life, even as the night stretched on, its streets filled with hurried footsteps, distant sirens, and the occasional honk of an impatient driver. Yet, for Emily Carter, it was a world she was no longer a part of.
She sat hunched on the cold pavement, her back pressed against the rough brick of a building, her arms wrapped protectively around her daughters. Lily and Sophie slept curled against each other, beneath the thin, tattered blanket she had managed to salvage from a shelter weeks ago. Their soft, rhythmic breaths were the only thing that reminded her that she had to keep going.
Hunger gnawed at her insides. Exhaustion weighed down her limbs. But she had no choice.
Her girls depended on her. With trembling fingers, she held out a small paper cup, its edges crinkled and weak. A silent plea for kindness.
But people walked past as if she didn’t exist, their eyes avoiding her as though acknowledging her would somehow taint them. She wasn’t just homeless, she was invisible. Every now and then, a passerby would glance her way, some with pity, others with disgust.
A few muttered under their breath, their voices dripping with judgment. She probably did this to herself, one man whispered to his wife as they strolled past in their pristine winter coats. People like her just don’t try hard enough.
Emily clenched her jaw, swallowing the anger and humiliation that rose in her throat. If only they knew. If only they understood that.
She hadn’t chosen this life. That one cruel twist of fate had sent her spiralling into a world of survival she never imagined she’d be in. She wanted to scream at them, to make them see her, but she had long since learned that society preferred its illusions.
It was easier for them to believe that she was nothing more than a product of her own failures than to accept that sometimes life simply didn’t give people a chance. The night grew colder, and Emily shivered despite herself. Her coat, once thick and warm, had lost its ability to protect her from the biting air.
Her hands ached from the cold, her fingertips numb as she reached down to gently adjust the blanket over Lily’s tiny shoulders. The girls deserved warmth, food, a bed—not the unforgiving pavement of a city that refused to acknowledge them. She wished she could let them sleep in a shelter, but space was always limited, and she had been turned away too many times.
Families weren’t always a priority when beds were scarce. She had fought for spots before, standing in endless lines, only to be told at the last moment that there wasn’t room. The disappointment in her daughter’s eyes each time broke her a little more.
She hated that they were growing up thinking this was normal, that they were learning to adapt to a life no child should ever know. A woman in a designer coat walked past, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. She was older, her blonde hair neatly styled, her posture stiff as she caught sight—of Emily.
For a brief second, their eyes met. Emily didn’t dare speak, but she tilted the cup slightly, a silent request. The woman’s face hardened.
Without a word, she clutched her expensive leather purse tighter against her side, as though afraid Emily might lunge forward and snatch it. The insult stung more than Emily wanted to admit. Did she really look that desperate? That dangerous? She wasn’t a thief.
She was a mother trying to keep her children alive. The woman quickened her pace, her disgust clear in every movement, as if Emily’s mere existence offended her. Emily let out a slow, shaky breath, lowering the cup to her lap.
It wasn’t the first time someone had reacted that way, and it wouldn’t be the last. She leaned her head back against the wall, exhaling deeply, trying to push the bitterness away. It wouldn’t help her.
It wouldn’t feed her daughters. She needed to focus. The few—the coins rattling at the bottom of the full meal.
Maybe if she found a diner with kind staff, they’d let her get something small. A piece of bread, maybe. Something to keep the hunger at bay, at least for a little while.
She looked down at her daughters, their faces, peaceful despite the cold. She envied them, their ability to sleep through the worst of it. They trusted her completely, unaware of how much she was failing them.
A lump formed in her throat. She couldn’t cry. Not here.
Not now. A man in a dark jacket walked by, then stopped a few feet ahead. Emily.