“Jeremiah, do you have anything to eat on you?” she asked. Her voice cracked. “What?” he asked, his nose wrinkled, as Piglet’s father chattered with the flower girls: “How old are you? And you? Wow, that’s a big number.” Her stomach contracted; she tried to cough the hard lump in her oesophagus clear. “Anything,” Piglet gasped. “A snack or something?” Jeremiah shook his head.
2 convos at once. I love
