It began, as friendships only rarely do among urchins, with a shy smile and an offered scrap of bread.

The boy peering down at me through dirty blond curls was even scrawnier than me, and at least a year or two younger. I was shocked at the sight. Not because I hadn’t heard him clumsily ascending to the sun-bathed rooftop from the alleyway below over the past several minutes. I’d carefully chosen my urban retreat for that exact reason. But that wasn’t why I was shocked. Nor was it for the fac...