I laid Lily on a small, cushioned bench nearby, wrapping her in a soft blanket Mrs. Alvarez handed me.

For the next thirty minutes, the only sounds were the clinking of spoons and the quiet rustle of the wind outside.

The girls ate hungrily, their cheeks slowly regaining color in the warmth of the kitchen.

Mrs. Alvarez stood by the stove, ladle in hand, ensuring their bowls were never empty.

Richard sat at the far end of the table, sipping a mug of black coffee, watching us quietly.

Once the girls finished, Mrs. Alvarez helped me carry them upstairs.

She had prepared two adjoining bedrooms with thick, plush carpets and heavy comforters.

I tucked Olivia and Grace into one large bed, while Lily slept in a smaller bed beside them.

I kissed each of their foreheads, listening to them drift back into a deep, safe sleep.

“I will stay right outside their door,” Mrs. Alvarez whispered, pulling a chair into the hallway.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said.

“I want to,” she replied, patting my hand. “Go talk to Richard. You need some rest too.”