The woman stopped breathing.

“Your father told you that?”

The boy nodded.

“He said you didn’t want me.”

Her face collapsed.

“No. He told me you died.”

The little girl stared between them.

“Mom… is he my brother?”

The woman nodded through tears.

“I searched for him for six years.”

The boy looked confused.

Then slowly reached beneath his torn shirt.

Around his neck was a small silver bracelet.

The woman recognized it immediately.

She had placed it around her newborn son’s wrist.

Her hands began shaking.

“Where is your father?”

The boy pointed toward the end of the alley.

“He comes every night.”

“Why?”

The boy looked down at the sandwich.

“To take the money people give me.”

The woman’s grief disappeared.

A black car slowly turned into the alley.

The boy flinched.

“That’s him.”

She pulled both children behind her.

The car stopped.

A man stepped out.

And when he saw her standing beside the boy, his face went white.

She stared at the husband who had once handed her a tiny closed coffin.

Then whispered,

“You made me mourn a child you were hiding from me.”