The waitress, a kindly woman with a weary smile, approached our table.
“Everything alright here?” she asked, her gaze shifting gently between us.
“We’re good,” I replied, “just warming up a bit.”
She nodded knowingly, her eyes lingering on the little girl. “If you need anything, just holler.”
“Thank you,” I said, appreciating the unspoken understanding.
As the little girl sipped her drink, I watched the world outside, the snow falling steadily under the streetlights. My mind wandered, wondering how she had ended up here, alone on Christmas night.
“Do you remember anything about where you were before?” I asked gently, trying not to pressure her.
She hesitated, the question hanging in the air like a fragile thread.
“There was a big tree,” she said finally, her voice small but certain. “With lots of lights.”
I nodded, encouraging her to continue. “Anything else?”
