Morning came…
but it didn't feel like morning.
There was no sunlight
warming the tent.
No quiet.
No calm.
Only a strange silence,
broken by distant sounds.
Jory opened her eyes slowly.
For a second,
she forgot everything.
Then she remembered.
Everything.
She sat up.
Her father wasn't beside her.
Her mother was awake,
but her eyes looked… tired.
Too tired.
"Where is Baba?" Jory asked softly.
Her mother didn't answer immediately.
She forced a small smile.
"He went out… to get something."
Jory nodded.
She didn't ask what.
She already knew.
Food.
Water.
Anything.
Time passed slowly.
Too slowly.
The kind of time
that makes your heart restless.
Jory stepped outside the tent.
The air was cold.
The ground was dusty.
People were moving,
but no one was really living.
Everyone was searching.
For something.
For anything.
She saw children.
Some were crying.
Some were silent.
Some just… staring.
Jory held her small piece of bread.
Still there.
Still untouched.
She looked at it.
Then at the others.
Her fingers tightened.
For a moment…
she thought about eating it.
Just one bite.
But then…
she saw a little boy.
Sitting alone.
His eyes empty.
His hands empty.
Jory walked toward him slowly.
Step by step.
Her heart beating fast.
She stopped in front of him.
And without saying anything…
she held out the bread.
The boy looked at her.
Confused.
Then at the bread.
Then back at her.
"Take it," she whispered.
He didn't move at first.
As if he didn't believe it was real.
Jory smiled.
A small smile.
A tired smile.
But a real one.
"Take it."
He reached out slowly.
Took the bread.
Held it like it might disappear.
Jory watched him.
She felt something strange.
Her stomach still hurt.
But her heart…
felt lighter.
For the first time in days.
And in that moment…
Jory understood something.
Hope…
wasn't something you keep.
It was something you give.
Even when you have nothing.