A box of saltines… a damn box of saltines wedged in between the fridge and the wall—the one place I hadn’t looked yet. The cupboards held cans I can’t open, bread too stale to choke down, and mouse turds. How did I miss this box of crackers? I bend and snake one wiry arm down to grab it. My chest drops at the empty weight of the cardboard before my brain can catch up. No crackers. Of course not. My stomach decides to mock me just then with a growl. It had been two weeks since Dad came home with a few boxes from the food pantry. I always say…