😵😲Every morning, I fed a lonely boy—secretly, so the leadership wouldn’t find out. But one day, he didn’t show up: instead, black cars pulled up outside the café, and the letter the soldiers handed me knocked the wind out from under my feet.

Every morning, I set out cups, wiped down tables, and pretended everything was fine. The world around me seemed stuck on repeat—the same faces, the smell of coffee, the ringing of the bell above the door.

One day, I noticed a boy. Small, about ten years old, with a backpack that seemed heavier than he was. He always arrived at precisely 7:15, sat in the farthest corner, and ordered only a glass of water.