The rain had just started when the black SUV stopped outside the old convenience store. Rocco Moretti stepped out to make a call, but before he could dial he heard a small voice behind him.
“Sir… sir, can you buy my bike?”
He turned. A little girl stood there holding a rusted pink bicycle, shivering under the rain. Her shoes were torn, her face pale, and her eyes looked far too tired for someone her age.
continued on next page
For complete cooking times, go to the next page or click the Open button (>), and don't forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
