I took the tray into the living room.

Hannah was on the sofa with a history textbook open in her lap.

She had her blue fleece hoodie drawn tight around her shoulders.

The TV was off, and the house was completely quiet except for the rain on the roof.

I set the tea down on a coaster and passed her the plate.

She took a tiny bite of the bagel and smiled, a brief glimpse of the little girl who used to sneak my baking chocolate on Sunday mornings.

Then she winced and pressed her left hand hard into her side.