Strength does not always look like fighting back loudly.
Sometimes strength is cutting off the hair you love because it is the only valuable thing you still control.
Sometimes it is getting onto a bus while sick and terrified because nobody will drive you.
Sometimes it is surviving one more night in a cold shed because you still believe tomorrow might be different.
Naomi survived enough tomorrows for me to finally come home.
And when I did, I made sure she never had to fight alone again.
THE END.
