Page 120 of When We Burn

“How about homemade pizza?” Dani asks her. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah.” Birdie curls up against my chest and goes back to sleep.

“Do you want to join us?” I ask my sister, and to my surprise, she nods.

“I want to keep an eye on this one,” Bee says, nodding to her niece. “And Dani makes the best homemade pizza, so it’s totally for selfish reasons.”

“Then let’s go home and eat.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

DANI

“Okay, guys, did you get your hand traced?” I’m walking around my classroom, guiding my students through an art project for Thanksgiving. It’s the standard, trace the hand and turn it into a turkey craft. One that’s been done for generations.

And, since it’s a half day of school today because tomorrow is Thanksgiving, we’re having fun.

“Good job, Ariel,” I say, patting a little blond-haired girl on the shoulder.

We only have a half hour left of classtime today, and that’s about how long it takes for my kids to glue their projects together.

“I hope you all have a good long weekend,” I say to my class. “Have lots of fun, okay?”

The bell rings, and the kids gather their bags and papers and coats and start to file out ofmy classroom.

A little boy named Mason approaches me with pink cheeks and shy, downcast eyes.

“Hey, Mason. Do you need something?”

“Um, Miss Dani? Could I maybe take some food home with me?”

And just like that, my heart breaks for this little boy. He’s so thin, and more times than not, his clothes are dirty. His parents didn’t come to parent-teacher conferences, and he rides the bus to and from school, so I’ve never met them.

It’s pretty plain to see that Mason has a rough life at home, even if that means neglect.

And I completely relate to him.

“Of course, you can. Let’s go shopping in the closet, shall we?”

He nods and slips his sweet little hand into mine as we walk to the treat cabinet. For ten minutes, we fill a reusable bag that I keep on hand, just for these occasions, and he chooses some soups and other nonperishable meals that he can heat up at home, along with some snacks.

I want to take him home with me and feed him anything he wants.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile before he leaves to catch his bus.

With a sigh, I turn to find Birdie still sitting at her desk. Bridger’s been working extra hours this week because one of his guys just welcomed a new baby and is on paternity leave. Needless to say, Birdie and I haven’t seen much of him lately, and we miss him.

“Are you about ready to go home, pumpkin?” I rub Birdie’s back soothingly.

“I guess.”

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you feeling okay?”

“I miss Daddy.”

I squat beside her and kiss her cheek. “I know you do. I do, too. I have an idea. Your dad and his guys have been working extra hard this week, right?”

She nods, watching me.

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