Robin opened the window and threw down her bag. She didn't worry about the contents, learning long ago to own nothing breakable in this house.
She deftly climbed to the ground flitting from branch to branch like the bird that was her namesake. Picking up her pack she slipped into the shadows of the tree listening as the crashing and screams washed through the open window.
Cold and trembling in the night she heard a throaty growl and allowed herself at last to hope. Fredo’s motorcycle slipped into view at the top of the dead end street. She willed him to come faster so that they could be gone before the neighbors inevitably called the cops.
Wordlessly he handed her a spare helmet and she climbed up. She clasped her arms around his waist not wanting to let go of this treasure that she valued more than gold, more than life itself.
The warmth from his back spreading through her breast washed away the cares of the world. She leaned deeply into him and whispered, “Fly Fredo. Take me away from this place. I’m never coming back.”
The headlights of the bike washed the road before them in a glow of hope while falling darkness engulfed the hell behind. Robin cried for her mother who would not escape, but she now had to think about the new life within her.
Driving through the night into a new sunrise, Robin knew at last that she was free.