It occurs to me s hiding place is always also a prison.
I had physical hiding spaces when I was young. I would go into the attic and a particular closet and the basement.
But the one you carry with you is where you were pushed to. You flee in fear, emotionally and eventually find somewhere they can’t get to you. This is a happy discovery. But this place too has walls, and if you never leave you never return to the life you left.