Even though her voice was quiet, thin around the edges, still carrying the rasp of days spent crying, the group wasn't large, and the street around them was eerily empty. Her request carried clearly, bouncing off the building walls and reaching almost everyone present.
For a brief moment, silence ruled.
Then eyes shifted, some wide with shock and disbelief, others full of pity, as if they were watching someone sign their own death sentence without realizing it.
A few men closer to the back snorted under their breath. Someone muttered something about "another crybaby." Someone else wore a crooked smile, like he'd finally found a way to vent his own fear and humiliation after Leon's earlier words. It was easier to mock a small, tear-streaked girl than admit to yourself you hadn't even had the courage to take one step forward.
