When the grate finally came free and I pushed myself through the gap and dropped into the yard, my leg moved in a way legs are not meant to move, and I had to press my face into the dirt and wait for the world to stop spinning before I could go on.

I had no shoes.

No money.

No phone.

I had a set of thin pajamas and the cold ground and one clear thought, which was that my neighbor Amanda’s house was on the other side of the fence, and that if I could reach her door, I would be out of reach of the people in that house.

So I crawled.

I will not describe that crawl in detail either; some things a person survives are not owed to a reader as spectacle.