“Maybe I have,” she replied. “Or maybe I just saw someone kind.”
She smiled, her walls finally crumbling not from a siege, but from a knock. shft ywnk qlby dq
He was kneeling by a stray cat, unwrapping a piece of bread from his jacket pocket. His hands were gentle, his hair curled over his brow, and when he looked up—when their eyes met—something impossible happened. “Maybe I have,” she replied
His name was Adam. He smiled, not the polished kind people use in photographs, but a real one—tired, hopeful, and utterly unguarded. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said. “Maybe I have