The boys shifted their weight, glancing at the untouched meal in front of me.
“Please, just a little,” the other boy added, his hands clasped in a silent plea.
My workdays were a grind: early mornings with exams to prep for in the study, and long shifts in my paralegal job, where I shuffled through paperwork that never seemed to end.
I balanced bills, family calls, and occasional meetings with a strained sense of normalcy.
The idea of luxury dining was supposed to be a rare reprieve, yet tonight, the divide between where I was and where they were couldn’t feel starker.
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