It’s a good thing I like my job, Susan Roe thought, starting toward the front door of her small home. Because the hours sure stink. I hate third shift!

Just as she was reaching for the doorknob, the telephone rang. Sighing, she glanced at the delicate watch on her slim wrist. As long as she kept the conversation short, she had time to answer and still make it to work on time. Hurrying to the mahogany table where the phone waited, ringing, she grabbed the handset.

“Hello?”

“Sue?”

She smiled, hearing her mother’s voice. “Who else would be answering the phone in my house at nearly nine at night?”

“I know you’re on your way to work,” her mother said, “but I wanted to call and invite you over for dinner tomorrow evening.”

“Sure,” Susan said. “I’ll be there. Thanks. Sorry to be short, but I’ve got to get to work.”

“Okay.”

“Tell Dad I love him.”

“I will.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Sue.”

Soon as her mother hung up, Susan replaced the handset in the cradle and started toward the door. The bell rang, chiming softly through the house. Susan stopped and frowned. Who’s dropping by this time of night? Everyone I know knows what hours I work.

Moving back toward the door, she peered through the peephole and frowned upon seeing the boy standing outside. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven. She unlocked the door and opened it.

Rather than look up at her as she greeted him, the boy kept his gaze downcast as he returned her greeting. His voice was soft and held a traces of an accent Susan couldn’t place.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I hope so,” the boy said, nearly whispering. “May I come in?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m on my way out to work. I haven’t got much time. What can I do for you?”

The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot. He was dressed completely in black- tee shirt, jeans and sneakers – and his hair was such a dark, even black that Susan suspected it was dyed. “I haven’t eaten in two days. Please, may I come in?”