The little boy moved quickly through the narrow gaps between makeshift shacks, motioning for the girls to follow. His bare feet barely made a sound against the dusty ground, his small frame slipping easily through spaces most grown men would have to turn sideways to pass. He stopped in front of a worn but surprisingly sturdy-looking tent, its faded canvas patched in several places but kept tight and clean.
"This way," he said quietly, pulling the flap aside.
Lilith's eyes swept the area first. Unlike most of the tents they had passed—where trash was scattered, and the smell of stale food and waste lingered—this little corner was different. The ground around the tent had been swept clear of dirt and debris. They could see glimpse of the inside a few stacked crates served as shelves, holding neatly folded clothes. There was even a small tin basin of water sitting to one side, covered to keep the dust out.
For a place like this, it was shockingly well kept.
