Her youngest sibling’s expression became that every sibling made upon seeing her again after a while. It was love, she was sure. It just had its own form, as she had tried to explain to Kitty. Perhaps it was just their usual interaction style, perhaps something was up, because to Ruth, Nesah did not look like somebody freshly back from Paris. Where were the joy and the smugness? And what was up with that smirk? Oh, maybe it was supposed to be a smile.

“Clearly you didn’t,” sometimes she wished she were a more merciful type. Alas, not Ruth.

“What’s in the top box?” Ruth asked, curious. Was Nesah trafficking something? It would explain the mood. Ruth nodded. “Do we need a second cart?” she asked practically and nodded again. She tried very hard to not continue the conversation on the subject, as Nesah was close enough to her to know she wouldn’t choose to live with family, not anymore. Ruth had left home very young and had never been back, no matter what happened.