Echoes

In the gray outskirts of London, Bella pushes an empty stroller that carries only the sound of hunger. Three children wait at home, their stomachs echoing louder than the sirens outside. Near the supermarket, she hides a loaf of bread beneath a blanket, beside a trash bin that smells of yesterday’s meals. A passerby glances with pity, but pity does not feed a child. Her daughter Lou, deaf and delicate, eats quietly on a park bench. The bread tastes like warmth. The world refl

The morning she won her third gold medal, the world called her a hero.By  evening, it called her a feminist. Sena stood in front of the mirror in her dorm room, her hair cropped short and clean, the kind of haircut that felt like running—fast, free, unstoppable. The medal ribbon still smelled faintly of salt and rain from the archery field. But when she opened her phone, the glow of celebration was gone. Thousands of messages scrolled past like arrows. “Why did you cut your h