“What’s your name anyway?” “Thanks for this.” The boy took a long drag from the bogie. “But I should go.” “Easy, little lamb. I invite you in my home, give you cigarette. And look,” she tilted the pack to show him, “I only have two left. I even let you cry in my kitchen. You know it’s bad luck to cry in the kitchen, right? You can at least tell me your name.”
