Five years old… already carrying a life most adults couldn’t bear.
“And the baby?” Ethan asked gently.
“He’s Noah,” she said. “My brother.”
Her voice softened when she said his name.
“Where’s your mom?”
Lily hesitated. Then quietly:
“She went to get food… three nights ago.”
Ethan’s chest tightened.
Lily had been living behind a laundromat nearby, keeping warm next to the machines, caring for Noah like it was the most natural thing in the world. She fed him when she could, rocked him when he cried, and stayed awake at night trying to keep him quiet.
