Shalma Hughes watched Mrs. Lewis's subtle gestures, feeling a warm current flow through her heart.
"Mrs. Winslow, are you hungry? Would you like me to make you something?"
"No need. I had dinner at the company. The food there is pretty good," Shalma reassured her.
Mrs. Lewis, however, replied, "No matter how good the company's food is, how can it compare to a home-cooked meal? Mrs. Winslow, you just wait here! I'll go make you something right now. It won't take long."
Home!
For some reason, upon hearing the word "home," Shalma's eyes—which had been dry all this time—suddenly grew a little moist.
After Mrs. Lewis tidied herself up and was about to head into the kitchen, Shalma called out to stop her. "Mrs. Lewis, you really don't need to cook for me. You have no idea; I ate two huge bowls of rice at the company for dinner. My stomach is about to burst! How could I possibly eat anything else now?"
