Searching For- Your Daddy Ditched Me Again In- -

Can’t. Truck broke down near Rawlins. I’m sorry.

She put the van in drive and turned left at the broken traffic light, not toward the Holiday Inn, but toward the old two-lane highway that cut through the mountains. The GPS scrambled to catch up. Searching for- Your Daddy Ditched Me Again in-

Her phone buzzed again. Tom: Seriously. I’ll make it up to you. Just wait. Can’t

Lena slammed her palm against the dashboard, silencing the robotic chirp. The nickname she’d programmed as a joke six years ago—back when “Daddy” was an endearment, not an accusation—now felt like a hot needle under her skin. She put the van in drive and turned

Lena turned off the phone.

She was parked outside a dilapidated truck stop off I-80, the neon sign for “Pete’s 24-Hour Diner” buzzing a frantic, blue halo into the snowy dark. Her son, Eli, was asleep in the back seat, his small hand still clutching the toy tractor his father had mailed for his fifth birthday three months ago. The same father who was supposed to meet them here an hour ago.