Adrian finally whispered, “I lost everything today.”
The girl didn’t look surprised. She just nodded like she understood something adults usually hide.
“Everything?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “My family. My home. My future… maybe even myself.”
The girl looked down at her bread, then carefully broke it in half.
Adrian shook his head quickly. “No, don’t. You need it.”
She ignored him and held one half toward him anyway.
“Take it,” she said.
His hand trembled. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you look like someone who forgot what kindness feels like.”
That sentence broke something in him.
His fingers slowly closed around the bread. The moment their hands touched, he stopped breathing.
A flash hit him.
Rain. Years ago. A woman standing on a quiet street, smiling gently as she broke bread and pressed it into his hand.
“You look like you didn’t eat,” she had said.
Her name—Elena.
Gone from his life without explanation. Or so he thought.
Adrian stared at the girl in front of him now. Same quiet strength. Same eyes that didn’t judge him. Same way of standing like she refused to be afraid.
His voice came out barely audible.
“What’s your name?”
The girl looked at him and opened her mouth to answer.
And the city, for once, went completely silent.
