Saving Kids With Burritos

Watching this kid—who'd one day wreck the world—treat one meal like it was gold, I blurted, "Spring break's coming. Want to help at the stand? I'll cover your food."

His whole face lit up. "Really?"

"Yup. We'll be at the tourist spot. It gets insane, and I need backup." I ruffled his wild hair. "You're hired. Kill it and I'll throw in extra shrimp."

He snapped to attention. "Miss Murphy, thank you."

I meant to walk him home, but he wouldn't let me—insisted on pushing the cart instead. Only when we got to my place did he finally take off, backpack slung tight.

I watched his skinny frame fade down the street, this ache curling in my chest. Whatever it took, I'd rewrite his ending.

He wasn't a villain yet. Just a broken kid trying to survive.

Spring break hit, and Rory showed up before sunrise. Every. Single. Day.

He'd scan yesterday's numbers like a tiny CEO, then pick the best money spot. Wiped tables, cleared dishes, scrubbed plates—fast, smooth, like he'd done it forever. Kid had just turned thirteen, but he moved like he was twenty-five.

The mini burritos were flying. After the rush, I handed him a set and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Eat. I've got cleanup."

Out of nowhere, he said, "Miss Murphy... you remind me of my mom."

I kept it light. "Yeah? What was she like?"

He froze mid-plate. "She was kind. Treated everyone right... just not herself."

The novel mentioned her—every time her drunk husband got violent, she'd throw herself between him and Rory.

She did that for ten years.

But even the toughest break eventually. After a lifetime of work and beatdowns, she just... couldn't anymore. She died before she could protect him one last time.

Tears welled in Rory's eyes. I didn't even think—just said, "Then take care of yourself. That's what she'd want."

He nodded, a small smile breaking through. "Yeah. I will."

I ruffled his hair again. "If you're ever hurt or hungry, come find me. I don't have much, but I've always got burritos."

He ducked his head, ears going red. "Miss Murphy... you're really nice."

How did a kid this sweet end up the story's big bad?

The novel barely touched his past. I had no clue what came next.

But I knew one thing—I was gonna protect him anyway.

***

Last day of spring break, I waited by the cart.

Rory never came.

A tight, ugly feeling crawled into my chest.

I went to the address he gave me.

Even from down the block, I heard the yelling.

"You little bastard! I'm drowning in debt! Mr. Menzer doesn't care that you're a boy—he still wants you! Just spend a few nights with him and I'm off the hook! And you refuse? I raised you for what? You're just like your useless mother—ungrateful trash!"