Danny switches on the light, chasing away the darkness.

‘It was early the following morning when she came into my room and told me we were going away for a while,’ he says. ‘She never said how long, but as I watched her pack all my clothes and toys I began to think we were not coming back. I sat on the bed crying… she told me everything would be okay, that I would love where she was taking me. But I could tell she was lying. I remember the pajamas I was wearing, the green army ones. I asked her would Dad know where to find us when he came back but she didn’t answer, just continued to shove everything into the case that she’d opened at the bottom of the bed. “Everything is going to be okay” she kept repeating but I could tell she didn’t believe it. Her nerves were obvious in the speed at which she was moving. Hurrying to get away. Like she was trying to escape. I told her I didn’t want to go but she just kept packing. “It won’t be forever,” she said, but I didn’t believe her.

‘When she had everything in the car we left. Mom drove for what felt like hours and hours. Saying very little, her eyes wide as she focused on the road ahead of her. Stopping only to take money out of bank machines. Eventually it got dark and she booked us into a motel for the night.

‘The following morning we got back into the car and traveled for most of the day, pulling into another motel that evening. The sun was still strong when she took me for a walk. I can still remember how it burnt into my skin as we passed through, what looked to me, like a real scary place. I was nervous but afraid to say anything. I could sense she was worried, gripping my hand tightly, pulling me along the pathway.

‘We came to a road that had all different kinds of homes, mostly trailers, some small wooden houses. The place was dirty, trash everywhere, bits of furniture and old cars strewn around yards blocked off by fences. I asked her if we could go home and she said, “Just as soon as we find a new one.” This made me even more scared – why were we looking for a new house? Why couldn’t we go back to our own? Who would let Dad know where we were? Dragging my feet, the sun burning my skin, I was hungry, thirsty, but most of all scared. While passing by one of the yards a large black dog lunged against a steel fence, barking mad. Then two, three or maybe more dogs followed, sending me into Mom’s arms. She ran with me.