One evening Ethan found several dinner rolls hidden beneath her pillow.
“Emma,” he said softly.
The little girl froze.
Her eyes immediately filled with fear.
“I wasn’t stealing.”
“I know.”
She lowered her head.
“I just wanted to save some.”
Ethan sat beside her.
“You don’t have to do that anymore.”
“But what if it runs out?”
The question nearly broke him.
A five-year-old should worry about cartoons and playgrounds.
Not hunger.
Not survival.
Not tomorrow’s meal.
