When he had found her, sitting in a corner seat, grit beneath her fingernails and her Calvin Klein rucksack soaked with river water, he had rushed forward. She had been told to wait, and he had placed a hot chocolate in front of her, whipped cream high, wobbling as he set it down. He sat opposite her and watched her, waiting for her to drink. “Are you in trouble?” he said when she did not lift the mug, nodding towards her dirty hands.
:(
