The man’s eyes narrowed. He pushed back Irena’s torn sleeves. Her fingers were still purple from the berries. He held them up to show the boy, “Looks like you were telling the truth, boy.”
The boy scowled. “She’s a little thief!”
The man held tightly to Irena’s wrist, “Did you eat those berries?”
She tore at his grip with the fingers of her free hand, but to no avail. She nodded.