Lizie answered in a low voice, almost a whisper.
But she ate.
Slowly. Carefully. Calmly.
She looked like she hadn’t eaten a real meal in a while.
She drank glass after glass of water.
Every sudden movement made her tense.
When she left, I turned to my daughter.“You can’t bring home people like this. We’re struggling to make ends meet.”
“She hasn’t eaten all day.”
“She doesn’t plan here.”
“She almost came again,” my daughter interrupted. “Her dad’s working nonstop to pay for hospital bills. The power went out last week.”
I stopped.
“She fainted at school today. They told her to eat more. But she only eats lunch. That’s all.”
I sat down.
I was worried about how to make dinner last.
She was just trying to get through the day.
“Bring her back,” I said softly.
