Right now, my three boys are still sleeping, huddled under a thin blue blanket like we’re on a fun little camping trip. I watch them breathe peacefully and, just for a moment, pretend this is all by choice.
We set up our tent behind a rest stop just past the county line. It’s not exactly legal, but it’s quiet. Yesterday, the security guard gave me a look—one that said he understood and wouldn’t make us leave. At least not yet.
They don’t know we’re homeless. And I’m doing everything I can to keep it that way.
