The mines always exuded a sense of desolation and silence whenever you ventured there. There was scarcely a trace of life; the wind simply blew, accompanied by the distant hum of machinery and occasional explosions. The men toiling away in these mines seemed perpetually downtrodden, drained of vitality. That's precisely why you made it a point to accompany your little sister there every Sunday, hoping to inject a bit of brightness into their bleak existence.

During lunch breaks, when most of the miners and other workers surfaced, your sister would dart around, carrying boxes of baked goods. Try as you might, you struggled to keep pace with her boundless enthusiasm as she eagerly sought out the workers, her infectious energy a stark contrast to the somber surroundings. "Cookies!" she'd announce to a group of men gathered at picnic tables, their lunches packed in metal boxes and thermos cans. They'd cheer and gather around her, eager to sample the treats she offered. "What flavors have you got for us, princess?" one of the workers would inquire with a grin.

Your sister would giggle, happily explaining the array of cookies we had baked for them. Meanwhile, you stood back with a smile, though you couldn't shake the feeling of a familiar gaze fixed upon you the entire time. It belonged to Milan Rudic, the quiet giant among the men. He always carried an air of intimidation and mystery, yet he had never exhibited any hostility toward you. Your little sister would scamper over to Milan, and you reacted too slowly to intervene. "Cookies!" she'd exclaim, her bright smile directed at Milan.

He would simply nod and reach for a chocolate and peanut butter chip cookie from the offered tray. Your sister would giggle and beam as Milan gently patted the top of her head with his large hand. Then, his eyes would drift back up to you once again, holding a silent question.