“He’s my favorite Pokémon,” I say. I point at her quentinha. “You didn’t like the food?”

Pedro suddenly takes the seat where the toy had been.

“I have a stomachache.” Her voice is muffled, her face buried in the plump Snorlax.

“I have a stomachache, too,” I admit. Pedro glances at me like he doesn’t know where I’m going with this, and she looks up from behind the toy. “Where does yours hurt?”

“Here,” she says, pointing to her heart.

“Your chest?”

“And here,” she points to her stomach.

“Like you have to use the restroom?”

“No.” She shakes her head, getting frustrated with me. “I want my mom!”

Pedro looks at me, at a loss for words.

Tears streak her flushed face and she wipes her eyes with the Snorlax. Amandinha’s words cut through me. I know the feeling of missing someone so much that my stomach hurts. The hollowness that spreads within me aches and aches, and I know that no amount of boldo tea would help.

Cintia and PC, who were walking right behind her chair, notice Amandinha crying. They crouch down near her, and Cintia offers her a hug. Amandinha rests her head on Cintia’s shoulder, while PC rubs Amandinha’s arm looking teary-eyed himself. Victor comes by with tissues for Amandinha, before having to leave again to continue distributing quentinhas to the other kids.

“What happened? Why is she crying?” Cintia asks Pedro and me, a wrinkle in between her eyes.

“She wants her mom,” Pedro mouths to her.

“She’ll come pick you up soon,” Cintia says to soothe Amandinha, but the little girl shakes her head.

“I want her now!” Amandinha shouts.

“I wish you could be with your mom now,” I tell her. “But I bet she wants you to be happy with your friends here at Vozes until she can come pick you up.” She shakes her head, clamming up again. “I miss my grandma,” I admit.

Amandinha looks up. “She can’t come pick you up?”

A painful knot forms in my throat. “She can’t.”

Breathe.

I try to smile, but I think it comes out a little crooked with trying to hold the tears back because Pedro jumps in.

“If you eat and go play with your friends, you’ll see that time will go by faster,” he says.

“I don’t want to eat!” Amandinha snaps. “I’m not hungry! I miss my mom!”

“Amandinha, we understand,” Cintia says, and PC nods along.

“I think about my grandma all the time,” I admit to Amandinha. “And sometimes I don’t want to eat. It’s hard to swallow, right, when you feel sad and it hurts inside?” Cintia looks at me, offering me a comforting glance.