Camila’s POV
The girl's dinner was carefully planned, everything was proportioned. There were cooked vegetables, grilled chicken, and a soup of who knows what. Her dessert was a bowl of fruit with a light layer of ice cream. I have never seen a child eat so much broccoli in my life, poor girl.
My meal was different, I had perfectly cooked meat, some grains and vegetables, a small portion of rice, and salad.
The chef presents the dish as if it were a royal family. In the huge dining room, it was just the girl and me, so many empty chairs, so much space, everything for a little girl and a woman who will now share their meals with her.
"Do you really like broccoli?"
I always tried to start a conversation with her. The girl cut her portion of chicken with such ease that I can say she hand
