The cabin glowed warmly that evening, the faint scent of home-cooked food hanging in the air. Sarah sat across from Daniel at the wooden dining table, watching him speak with such excitement that her heart couldn’t stop swelling.
For hours, she had listened, really listened to every detail of his life that she had missed.
He told her about school, about how he loved to draw but hated math. He talked about the stray dog that followed him around the woods until Grandpa told him to stop feeding it.
Then his tone softened when he spoke of “the old man” who had saved a week ago.
“I didn’t even know he was my grandpa,” Daniel said, his eyes wide. “He found me when I was running from those boys. He took care of me. I used to call him ‘Sir,’ but now I can call him Grandpa.”
He smiled proud
