The tin box was getting heavier. Each evening when Sophie pulled it out from beneath her clothes and counted the notes, her eyes sparkled with a light that even poverty couldn’t dim.
One evening, after a particularly long day of sewing and working at the factory, Sophie spread the money on the mat before her. Rohan sat cross-legged across from her, watching with a smile.
“One… two… three…” Sophie counted, carefully stacking the bills. “Two hundred and ninety-four dollars. Rohan, can you believe it? We’re only fifty-six dollars away from the sewing machine!”
Her voice trembled with joy, and her hands shook as though the bills might fly away if she didn’t hold them tightly enough.
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A Simple Feast
Rohan leaned forward, taking her hands in his. “Sophie, this calls for celebration.”
S
