“Leo,” I murmured, trying to muster strength, “are you okay?”

He nodded, tears brimming. “I’m okay, Mom. But we have to be quiet. Aunt Chloe told Grandpa and Grandma that you and Dad were going to leave and never come back, that you’d take me away and they’d never see us again.”

His words were like knives, slicing through the remnants of my trust. Chloe, who had always been the golden child, the one who could do no wrong, had poisoned my parents against me. Her jealousy, her greed—whatever had driven her to this moment—left me speechless.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. “Leo, listen to me. We have to get help. Can you climb up and see if they’re gone?”

He hesitated, then nodded, determination setting his small jaw. I watched him make his way up the slope, fear twisting in my gut. Minutes later, he returned, his eyes wide with urgency. “They’re gone, Mom. We have to go now.”

With Leo’s help, I managed to stand, biting back cries of pain. Every step felt like a battle, but Leo’s small hand in mine was an anchor, pulling me forward. We made our way down the mountain, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sending ripples of fear through me.

After what felt like an eternity, we stumbled onto a dirt road. In the distance, the faint hum of an engine—a car approaching. I waved frantically, and the vehicle screeched to a halt. The driver, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, jumped out, rushing to our side.

“Oh my God, what happened?” he gasped, dialing emergency services as soon as he saw our condition.

I could barely speak. “Please… help us,” was all I managed, before the adrenaline began to fade, leaving only exhaustion.

The next few hours were a blur of ambulance sirens, hospital lights, and police officers taking statements. As I sat on the hospital bed, Leo asleep beside me, I felt a profound gratitude for his bravery—a courage that had saved our lives.

The betrayal of my family was a wound that would take time to heal. But as I held Leo close, I knew we would forge our path forward together, stronger and more resilient than ever.

In those moments of clarity, I understood that family isn’t always about blood. It’s about love, trust, and the unbreakable bond between a mother and her child. And that bond—no matter the trials—would never be broken.