The little boy still had shaggy hair. If the war had not torn his world apart and separated him from his parents, he would be a happy child now. Nina gently patted his head and spoke softly, "Can you tell me your name? You didn't want to stay at the embassy because of your parents?" "I've never seen my parents." The boy lowered his head, his voice raspy and filled with sadness.

Nina, who had spent five years in Salterra, observing the transition from minor conflicts to major upheavals, understood. If the boy had never seen his parents, it meant they had never been around from the beginning. What a pitiful child! "So, do you not have a name?" Nina pursed her lips, poured him a cup of water, and continued to crouch in front of him, trying to communicate.

The boy neither took the water nor spoke further. He looked like a child who felt deeply wronged and did not know what to do.

Nina's heart tightened. Another child with deep psychological scars. But living in a war zone, how could any child's mind be completely healthy?

She had a thought. If she focused on children and the elderly in her reports and rallied peace-loving people from around the world, could she help bring about a ceasefire?

you don't have

neat, must be the child of a wealthy Birkhamese businessman. But now it seemed his clothes were probably picked

very young. He was probably too young to remember

"My name is Orion."

You can stay with me for a few days, and them take you

If she had a child with her, she needed to make

teary eyes, pitifully pleading, "I have... nowhere to go... Can

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