“Yeah, well,” Dovid said. I waited, but he didn’t continue speaking. He just took his yarmulke off his head and twirled it around on his finger

Elka

T

he hours of school flew by and I rushed home quickly, excited to pick up Yisroel and just be home with him. Mama made soup last night, so I knew we would have lunch and I wouldn’t have to go to Faiga’s house. I was so ready to be back to normal. And because I didn’t want Miriam or Leiba reminding me that normal meant spending the afternoon with Faiga, I ran home without waiting for them after school.

“Tell Miriam to take Leiba home without me,” I called over my shoulder to Faiga as I ran out the door. “I’m rushing.”

“Why?” Faiga called after me. But I ignored her and pretended I hadn’t heard. She would never understand. Faiga’s family was always the one helping us. Always the one giving to us. There was no way she would understand what it was like to constantly be taking.

The walk home was freezing and I was extremely glad that I hadn’t waited for Miriam and Leiba. I could walk home much faster by myself.

I stopped at home only for a moment to drop my books off before running to pick Yisroel up from the babysitter. Or at least, it was supposed to be for only a moment. Because when I opened the door, the house was not empty the way it should have been.

“Dovid?” I asked. He was sitting on the couch, staring into space.

“What are you doing home?” Dovid demanded.