It was the night I missed my train, not because of traffic or a broken alarm, but because I just couldn’t make myself step forward. Standing on the empty platform, cigarette in hand for the first time in years, I realized my hesitation ran deeper than a missed commute—it was about everything I’d been avoiding back home. That one moment of pause would unravel the fragile threads of my family and force me to confront the truth I’d buried for so long.