"But it's important for you to understand these things," she said, crossing her arms. "Alright then, eat your horned rabbit stew, dear, or it'll get cold."
"I'm not hungry…" he sighed.
"What do you mean you're not hungry?! You always eat three plates!" she exclaimed. "Come on, dear—your tummy hurts, I bet. Just eat. For me?"
"…Ugh."
Timothy sighed and ate the stew. It was delicious. He finished every bite, drank all the broth, and dipped the bread until nothing remained.
"Thanks…" he offered a bitter smile. His mother smiled warmly and hugged him.
"You know I'll always love you no matter what, right?" she said. "I'm sorry… for not being able to do more back then. Life's never fair, son. But what matters is what we make of what we have."
"I guess…" Timothy nodded, still heavy with sadness. His mother gave him one last squeeze and left.
"Make sure to sleep early. Don't stay up too late. Tomorrow morning we have a lot to harvest."
"Okay…"
