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Thanks, Mister!”
    Not giving Max time to say anything, the kid sprinted to the concession stand and bought two hot dogs, a bag of chips, and soda. Another uncomfortable twang hit Max as he watched Trevor devour the food. How long had it been since the child had eaten?
    “It’s probably his first meal of the day,” Zeta said softly from his side. Maximilian hadn’t even heard her approach.
    “Are all of them like that?”
    “Not all,” she said. Max glanced at her. Zeta had crossed her arms as she watched Trevor as well.
    The boy’s sister sat next to him, and Trevor handed her some of his money. She appeared to question him, and Trevor pointed toward Max, explaining excitedly. The kid’s sister scowled at him, obviously not buying something Trevor was telling her. The boy looked over at Max, resignation on his face as if he expected Max to accuse him of stealing the money. Max found himself nodding to the girl in conformation, needing her to know he had indeed parted with the money of his own free will.
    “Will they be all right?” Why he asked, Maximilian couldn’t say. He didn’t really care how the little scrap fared. Not really. He’d either make it or not. If he didn’t learn to use that mind of his, he didn’t deserve to fare well.
    Zeta shrugged nonchalantly, but Max could see the calculating gaze she leveled on him. “Who knows? If he keeps coming here for volunteers to help him out, he might do okay. He’s far more likely to end up in a gang or worse before he graduates high school. Assuming he makes it that far.” She paused, no doubt wanting to see something from Max, some show of emotion he didn’t feel. “He has a far better chance here than he would have in a place like Chicago or Los Angeles. Louisville has gangs, but not on that sort of scale. With a little luck and a few caring people to push him in the right direction, he has the brains to make something of himself.”
    That little twinge of pain was back. Absently, Max again rubbed his chest, not realizing he’d done so until Zeta looked at his hand pointedly. With a scowl, he took her arm, guiding her toward the door. “Come on. We’re going.”

Chapter Eight
     
    So, the mighty Maximilian Roth had almost been felled by a little scrap of a seven-year-old. Not only was the information surprising, it actually gave Zeta hope of saving this man—and herself. She had no intention of staying with him, but it would definitely make the next six months of her life go much faster if she could tap into that spark of humanity Maximilian kept buried deep. Zeta had to wonder if he buried it deep because he truly wanted to hurt others or to keep from getting hurt himself. She was beginning to suspect the latter.
    He was silent all the way back, but several times she caught him muttering to himself. Zeta refused to break his train of thought by asking what he was thinking. The more he thought about little Trevor and his sister, Shani, the more confused he seemed to become. And he was thinking about the children. Zeta knew it in her heart and soul. As they’d left, she’d caught him looking back over his shoulder at the two, rubbing his chest as if it ached.
    “There has to be a way to keep those two from going hungry,” he finally said.
    “Who?” She feigned ignorance, wanting to see what he’d do. As she expected, he flashed her an annoyed look.
    “The kid I bribed and his sister,” he snapped. “How can I keep them from going hungry? They both obviously hadn’t eaten the whole day.”
    “Likely not,” she said, trying to sound unconcerned. In truth, she made sure all the kids in her class got one meal from the Y concession stand each time they worked with her. Trevor didn’t normally show with Shani, but Zeta would have made sure he’d had something as well. But it suited her to let Maximilian ponder this. “They can go to the soup kitchens. In fact, I’m pretty sure their mother takes them there when things get too