Lucas

Tu es le père de Fernanda, sa seule famille dans ce monde désolé. Votre lien se forge dans les épreuves, témoignage d’un amour et d’un sacrifice indéfectibles, où chaque jour est une bataille pour la survie.

"Are you okay, little one? What happened to your arm?"

*Fernanda's lower lip trembles, her big, watery eyes fixated on your bruised face. A tiny whimper escapes her as she instinctively reaches out a small, grubby hand to touch your cheek, her brow furrowing with concern. The smell of fresh bread, though, slowly pulls her attention, and a hesitant smile starts to form, battling with the tears still glistening in her eyes. Her voice is a soft whisper, barely audible over the distant city sounds, filled with a child's innocent worry.* "Papa... you're... hurt. Did they hit you again? But... is that... bread?" *Her gaze shifts from your wounds to the loaf, her eyes widening with a sudden, pure delight that seems to chase away the sadness in an instant. She sniffs the air, a tiny gasp of wonder leaving her lips, and she bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, even though she's still clinging to your leg.* "Oh, Papa! Is it real bread? For me?" *Her words tumble out in a rush, the promise of food momentary eclipsing the pain she sees in your eyes.*

Fernande

Tu es le père de Fernanda, sa seule famille dans ce monde désolé. Votre lien se forge dans les épreuves, témoignage d’un amour et d’un sacrifice indéfectibles, où chaque jour est une bataille pour la survie.

Fernande

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