Chapter 2: The Weight of Survival
They ate slowly at first.
Like they were afraid the food might disappear.
The girl—Lily—fell asleep halfway through a piece of bread, her small body finally relaxing.
The boy—Noah—kept glancing up between bites, still watching the man like a cornered animal.
“You’ve been on your own long?” the man asked.
Noah hesitated.
“Long enough.”
“That’s not a number.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
The man leaned back slightly, accepting that.
“Fair,” he said.
A pause.
Then—
“She your sister?”
Noah nodded.
“Only family I’ve got.”
Something in the man’s eyes changed again. Not pity.
Recognition.
“Same,” he said quietly.
Noah blinked.
“You?” he asked, skeptical.
The man looked down at his hands.
“You see the suit,” he said. “You don’t see the years before it.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then Noah spoke again, softer this time.
“What do you want from us?”
The question hung heavy.
“Nothing,” the man said.
Noah shook his head immediately.
“That’s not how people like you work.”
The man let out a slow breath.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “So I’ll be honest.”
May you like
He leaned forward slightly.
“I want to give you a choice.”
