Denver woke up refreshed and hungry. He dashed down to the kitchen to hunt for food. “Ma, I’m hungry.”
“Don’t you touch a thing with your filthy hands? Did you shower?” asked his ma, knowing him well.
“Nah, first food, then showers,” he said, watching his ma serve him some chicken stew and bread rolls. She handed the plate to him, and he leaned forward to plant a peck on her cheeks.
“Thanks, ma. You’re the best.”
“I know! Now run off before it gets cold. I won’t warm it up.”
“Hey, Den,” said Drake excitedly as he sat beside him at the dining table. “What are you gonna do now?”
“Eat. What else do you do with food?”
“I meant after eating, silly,” asked Drake.
“I dunno,” said Denver, munching and enjoying his food. Daxton came back and slumped into the seat next to him, eyeing his
