When He Stepped In.

Empty Try.

(Chris’s POV)

I spotted her the second I walked into the cafeteria.

Samuel was already at our usual table — hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, tray in front of her... but nothing on it.

No cereal. No toast. Not even milk.

Just an untouched fork, sitting there like it was supposed to fool someone.

I slid into the seat across from her and dropped my tray down with a soft clatter. She jumped slightly, like she hadn’t even noticed I was there.

“Morning,” I said, tilting my head. “You beat me today.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was soft. Distant. “Didn’t sleep much.”

I glanced at her tray. Then back at her.

“You forgot to grab food?”

She hesitated, eyes fixed on the table.

“Nah. I’m just not hungry.”

I frowned. “Sammy… you didn’t eat lunch yesterday either.”

She shrugged, trying to play it off. “I don’t really need the calories. I’m fine.”

Something tugged at my chest. A quiet ache that told me she was saying more than she wanted to.

I leaned forward, lowering my voice so no one else could hear. “You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

“Do what?”

“Pretend you’re okay when you’re not.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine — just for a second — and then dropped back down.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “Just… tired. And it’s not a big deal.”

But it was.

I could see it in the way her shoulders hunched forward. The way her fingers twisted the end of her sleeve. The way she was here, but not really here.

I pushed my tray toward her, nudging a muffin across the table. “Just take a bite. You don’t have to eat the whole thing. I just… don’t like seeing you like this.”

Samuel stared at it for a long moment, then gave a tiny smile. Barely there.

“You’re such a mom sometimes,” she whispered.

I grinned. “Well, if I’m Mom, that means you gotta listen to me.”

She rolled her eyes — but finally broke off a small piece of the muffin and popped it in her mouth.

Progress.

Not everything had to be fixed in one day.

But I’d keep showing up for her.

One muffin at a time.