Chapter 143
Young Curtis had no choice but to stay at the welfare center to recover. He knew people out there were hunting him down-they wanted him dead. This place, though, for now, at least, was safe.
For the next few days, Delia and her grandmother Beatrice dropped by daily. They brought him tasty treats, and Beatrice even helped clean his wounds like clockwork.
Curtis wasn't the talkative type. Not after all he'd been through. The trauma had added layers to his silence. But no matter how quiet he was, Delia just wouldn't stop chattering.
"Hey, want to try this? I love it! Gran made this candy herself. Just take a bite, okay?"
Curtis stared at her blankly, but anyone who knew him well could spot the flicker of softness in his eyes.
"Come on, ah-try it," she said, her voice playful as she unwrapped the candy and aimed it right for his mouth.
He glanced at the candy in her small, soft hand, clearly hesitating.
Delia instantly pouted. "What? Do you think my hands are dirty or something? I totally

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