“We were so worried. Papa heard shots.”

He removed his coat. It was always a surprise, how thin he had become. I suppose we all had. “I’m fine, ma. Don’t worry. I’m always careful.”

“Were you able to get it?” Papa asked him. I could see he was trying to guard his eagerness. To shield himself from disappointment.

He reached into his pocket with a look of triumph and pulled out a muslin-wrapped parcel. “A whole loaf!”

Papa got to his feet, clapping. “Splendid! A feast! I’ll get the knife.”

I knew we should save it, but I said nothing.

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