For a moment, he just stood there. Watching. Waiting. Because today wasn’t like other days. Today, going home empty-handed wasn’t an option.
Back home, there was almost nothing left. Chauncy had checked that morning before school—opening cupboards slowly, as if that would change what was inside. A half-empty jar. A few scraps. Nothing that could really be called a meal. His mother had noticed. She always did. But she didn’t say a word. Just gave him that same tired smile and said she wasn’t hungry anyway. Chauncy knew better. That’s why he was here.
He shifted his weight as a couple walked out of the store, laughing about something he couldn’t hear. Their cart was packed—bags piled high, more than they could probably carry in one trip. Perfect. Chauncy stepped forward, forcing his voice to stay calm.
“Excuse me, sir… ma’am… can I help carry your groceries? Just for something small to eat?”
