We wanted to find him, thank him, at least know who he was. But Arthur stopped us. He said that the man must have had a reason. And somehow, I trusted Arthur's words.
Later, in our small private conversations, we named that man Goodman. Because to us, he was simply that. A good man.
Indra suddenly smiled at this point. Obero noticed it and asked, "What happened?"
Indra replied with a grin, "Now that I am saying it to you, I just realized that since he registered himself as our guardian, his name must have been written in the school register. But we never even checked it." He chuckled, shaking his head softly. Then his smile faded back into the quiet rhythm of his tale.
"After he left, we kept living in his house. We continued our part-time work at the shop, attending school during the day, working in the evenings, studying at night. Life became busy, but we managed. We did all the house chores ourselves. Arthur cooked most of the meals. Sophia tried many times, but she spoiled the food more often than not, so Arthur and I did the cooking while she helped with cleaning and laundry.
Between part-time work, school, cooking, cleaning, and studying, our schedules were far tighter than any of our classmates who had parents to depend on. It was exhausting. Some days we barely slept. Some days we barely talked. But being together made all of it feel less heavy. When the three of us shared a single plate of food, or studied together at night, even the toughest days felt survivable.
Months passed like that. Eventually my ninth birthday arrived. But after such a long year filled with events I never imagined living through, I completely forgot my own birthday. I went to school and work like any other day. That evening, Arthur and Sophia pretended to be sick and left work early, leaving me to manage the shop alone.
When I returned home late, they surprised me.
They had decorated the walls of the house with posters of my favorite show. There was a cake waiting, my favorite butterscotch flavor. They cut the cake with me, sang for me, teased me, laughed with me. Then they dragged me outside and insisted I go with them.
We were just a nine year old, an eleven year old, and an eight year old. But together, we traveled hundreds of miles through the night. By the next day's evening, we reached my old home.
I had not returned even once since the explosion that killed Mom and Dad. I had always wanted to go back, at least once, to get a photograph of them. Arthur and Sophia knew that. They brought me there as a birthday gift.
The house belonged to another family now. All our possessions were thrown away. When I heard that, a heavy sadness crushed my chest. But despite that loss, being with Arthur and Sophia made me happy. So happy that I cried while hugging them.
It became the best birthday of my life.
Our lives were hard, but together we formed a small world of peace and warmth. A family made of three. But peace does not last long in my life. It never did.
After two years, the shop we worked in was forcefully bought by the ministry for road expansion. Overnight, our lives returned to the streets.
Hunger returned. Thirst returned. Fear returned.
This time we were not naïve. We had experience. We stretched our savings, searched for work, and survived with discipline. We searched the entire city for part-time jobs. But every job failed one of our conditions.
Some jobs clashed with our school timings. Some required heavy lifting which Sophia could not do. Some jobs paid well but required Sophia to stand outside the shop wearing attractive clothes to attract customers.
Arthur rejected those immediately. So did I. We would never let anyone look at her that way.
We had one rule.
All three of us would work in the same place.
We would not let Sophia suffer.
We would not let anyone use her beauty.
And even if we starved, we would not break that rule.
We were not trying to be naïve. We were just obstinate. And more than anything, we did not want to be separated. That rule kept us together, but it also burned through half our savings by the end of the first month. Even then, we had no job. With the future looking darker each day, we reduced our food consumption. Soon, all our needs shrank to half of what they used to be.
As part of that reduction, we stopped taking lunch to school. One afternoon, while my friends were eating their lunch boxes around me, my stomach was twisting and growling. To distract myself from the hunger gnawing at my insides, I went to Sophia's class, hoping that seeing her smile would calm me down.
When I stepped into the hallway, she happened to be walking toward my class, carrying a small box of food. She had found some money hidden between the pages of her textbook, money she had forgotten months ago, and bought food with it so she could share it with me.
We went to Arthur's class first, but he was already eating with his friends and did not notice us. So we returned to her classroom, sat down, and began sharing the food quietly.
Her classmates sat nearby, facing the opposite direction. They had not seen us return and kept gossiping. Normally, we never listened to their babbling. But that day, Sophia heard them mention our names, so we paused our eating and leaned closer.
They were mocking us. Whispering insults. Making fun of the clothes we wore. Making jokes about our living situation. At the end of their conversation, one girl said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "Those disgusting bastards."