The Question That Disrupted the Script
Security moved immediately, hands hovering near radios, ready to escort the children away before the inconvenience could become visible.
Edwin raised a hand.
He studied Naomi not with kindness or cruelty, but with curiosity sharpened by years of evaluating risk and return. He noticed the boys’ hollow cheeks, the way Naomi positioned herself half a step in front of them without thinking, the dirt embedded in her shoes that spoke of distance walked rather than neglect.
“You want to work,” he said, more statement than question.
“Yes, sir,” Naomi replied. “I don’t want charity. I can clean, organize, scrub floors, anything you need. Just food. One meal.”
The guards waited for dismissal.
Instead, Edwin hesitated.
It irritated him that he hesitated.
Finally, he nodded once. “Open the gate.”
