working breakfast shifts at a diner and evening hours in a pharmacy stockroom.

Della never complained.

That frightened me more than if she had.

—

One Thursday night, I was folding laundry while she sat cross-legged on the floor, rattling an old mint tin full of coins.

“You’re eating lunch at school, right?” I asked.

Della froze.

“I’m eating parts of lunch,continue reading …