The bread was still warm when William stole it.
He hadn't meant to—at least, that's what he told himself as his feet carried him down the dirt road, clutching the loaf against his chest like treasure. The baker's shouts faded behind him, swallowed by the hum of a dying village.
Smoke from the chimneys curled weakly into the gray sky. Children sat on doorsteps, hollow-eyed. Old men watched the clouds as if waiting for mercy that would never come.
William slowed, his chest heaving. The hunger clawed at his ribs, but guilt clawed harder. His mother's voice echoed in his head — soft, worn by sickness:
"Don't steal, Will. The world already takes too much from those who have nothing."
He stopped, staring at the bread in his hands. For a heartbeat, he almost turned back. Then he remembered the cough that had rattled through their home last night — the sound of her lungs giving up.
He broke the loaf in two. One half for her, one for him. That was fair. That was love.
By the time he returned home, the sun had slipped low. The house leaned like an old man ready to fall, its wooden walls groaning in the wind. Inside, his mother lay beneath a thin blanket, her breaths shallow, her face pale but kind.
"You're late," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.
William forced a smile and knelt beside her. "I brought food."
She looked at the bread, then at him. For a moment, something like sorrow flickered in her eyes. "You shouldn't have stolen again."
"I didn't—" he began, then stopped. The lie withered before it reached his lips.
She reached out, brushing her fingers across his cheek. "The world will take everything from you, Will. Don't let it take your heart, too."
Her hand fell away. The fire in the hearth was almost out, its glow fading like the light in her eyes.
"Go," she whispered, her breath trembling. "Live… for both of us."
The words hit him harder than hunger ever had. His throat burned, but no sound came.
That night, William sat beside her until the silence grew too deep to ignore. When morning came, he walked out with nothing but her last words echoing inside him — a promise that would outlive them both.