Earlier that day, the house was filled with laughter and warmth. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the cozy living room. Sarah bustled around the kitchen, her apron tied neatly around her waist, while Tom hummed softly as he tended to the plants on the balcony.
“Bianca, does David have any food he doesn’t like?” Sarah called out, her tone gentle and caring. “He rarely comes home and I’m worried I’ll cook something he won’t enjoy.”
I sat cross-legged on the couch, pretending to scroll through a show on my tablet. My chest felt tight, an ache I couldn’t name spreading through me. Despite everything, I curved my lips into a sweet smile, masking the turmoil within.
“Don’t worry, Sarah,” I replied lightly. “David isn’t picky. He’ll eat anything when he’s hungry. You don’t need to trouble yourself.”
Sarah smiled warmly, the kind of smile that could melt anyone’s heart. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and came over, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You’re such a thoughtful girl. I know it’s hard without your parents, but you’ve been such a blessing to this family.”
Tom chuckled from the balcony. “That’s right. You and David are both good kids. We’re lucky to have you.”