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Not in an obvious way. There was no frantic grabbing or stuffing of pockets. She was careful, deliberate. Each day after lunch, she scanned the cafeteria for leftovers, looking for unwrapped sandwiches, unopened milk cartons, fruit left behind on trays.
Then, she’d quietly slip them into her backpack, zip it up, and walk away.

That afternoon, as students scraped their chairs back and prepared to leave, he approached her gently.
“Mia,” he said, crouching beside her. “Why are you taking that food, sweetheart?”
Her fingers tightened around the straps of her backpack.
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