Chapter 7

Lucas stood by the fountain, frozen like a statue.

He didn't budge until a gutsy pigeon landed right on his shoulder. That was when he slowly turned his head and checked out the little creature.

The sunlight came through the spray, giving him this golden outline.

For a moment, he almost appeared gentle.

As if afraid to startle the pigeons, Lucas murmured, "Are they not afraid of people?"

"They're used to being fed," I replied.

I sprinkled breadcrumbs into his palm and added, "Just like people get used to being loved."

Lucas held out his hand, frozen mid-air, as pigeons…