Everything else in the restaurant felt ordinary. Fryers crackled, quiet conversations drifted, and screens glowed in the hands of people scrolling through their evenings. Yet at that small table, something heavier than hunger settled — a mix of weariness, love, and the ache of wanting to give your child more than the moment allows.
The little girl stayed still, holding herself together, though disappointment flickered across her face. Her mother sat tense, as if bracing herself against more than cold weather — the invisible weight of trying to shield a child from realities too big to explain.
