“Then what did you buy?”
He was quiet so long I thought he would not answer.
“At this moment,” he said, “a chance.”
That was not the answer of a sane man, and I turned to look at him.
He went on, still facing the road. “I’ve got eight children at my place. Lost their mother to fever near two years back. House has held together because older ones are stubborn and because God has an odd sense of humor. But little ones need gentleness. The big ones need someone who won’t lie to them. I needed help, yes. But I didn’t want to bring cruelty home.”
I let out a laugh before I could stop it. It came sharp and bitter. “So you bought yourself a soft-hearted stranger.”
He glanced at me then. “No. I paid to stop a public sin.”
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