Like he’d already given up on being noticed.
I walked over before my brain could talk me out of it.
“Here,” I said, pressing the twenty into his trembling hand. “Get yourself something to eat. Please.”
Something in his expression stopped me cold.
He looked up slowly.
His eyes were pale gray, calm.
And oddly familiar, though I couldn’t place why.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” His voice cracked, but his gaze stayed locked on mine. “Your father would be proud of you, Sara.”
Continue on the next page:
