Yearning For A Home
Zane stormed toward me in fury, but the moment he saw my face, all the color drained from his own.
Ten years had passed, and he had grown much heavier.
Back when we were in the orphanage, food came in fixed portions. If you wanted to be full, you had to fight for it.
He had been small and thin, often unable to compete with the bigger kids. So I would grab him and run, snatch food, and stuff it into his mouth first—only after he said he couldn't eat anymore would I put any in mine.
Even when he went abroad, he was still skinny, standing beside Samantha like a pitiful little quail.
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