There, in the shadow of the rear door, stood a girl—barefoot, hair matted with sweat, clutching a toddler so tightly it looked like she might fuse them together. The boy’s cheeks were streaked with grime, his head heavy on her shoulder.

Jake crouched, keeping his voice calm. “Hey… What’s your name?”

Her eyes darted between him and Duke, gauging danger. “Lily,” she whispered. “This is Ben.”

She shifted the boy higher, her arms trembling from exhaustion. Then came the plea—sharp, desperate, and far too grown for a child her age.

“Please… I’ll wash the dishes. Just keep us together.”

Jake felt the words hit him in a place no bullet ever had. It wasn’t food she was bargaining for. It wasn’t shelter. It was the one thing she couldn’t replace—her brother.