Chapter 7 - Sharing the Last Bread
The hunger was a constant, dull ache that made their limbs feel like lead.
On the sixth day, Kaelen was searching through the bottom of his torn tactical backpack, his fingers brushing against something hard and wrapped in wax paper. He pulled it out.
It was a small, dry heel of rye bread, no larger than a child's fist. It was stale, hard as a rock, and covered in a thin layer of grey dust.
"Look," Kaelen said, his voice cracking with excitement.
Julian’s eyes locked onto the bread. His stomach let out a violent, painful growl.
Kaelen didn't hesitate. He placed the bread on a flat stone, took his knife, and carefully split it down the center. He handed the larger piece to Julian.
"This is yours," Kaelen said.
"Kaelen, you found it. You should keep it," Julian said, though his hand was already reaching out.
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"In my shop, the baker never eats alone," Kaelen smiled, pressing the bread into Julian’s hand. "We share the crust, Julian. That’s the rule."
They chewed the dry, hard bread slowly, letting the saliva soften the grain before swallowing. It was the most beautiful meal Julian had ever tasted. It tasted of survival, of shared humanity, and of a bond that had been forged in the very depths of the earth.
