Holding food in his hand, he said to Forrest, "I'm hungry."

He explained that after showering and not finding anyone around, he had gone to the hotel, to find something to eat on his own. The hotel had provided the food, and he brought some back with him.

Seeing the boy, Forrest set his phone aside.

"Do you want some?" the boy offered.

Forrest shook his head, and sat down on the sofa.

The boy placed the food on the table and began to eat.

“What's your name?" Forrest inquired.

"Brewster," the boy replied, continuing to eat.

"Brewster, then? I'll call you that from now on," Forrest decided.

Brewster nodded, then, sensing Forrest's curiosity, said, "You can ask me whatever you want to know."

Brewster offered his willingness to chat as he continued to eat, his head bowed.

Forrest was taken aback by the boy's directness.

Despite his young age, Brewster seemed unusually astute.

Before Forrest could speak, Brewster added, “I went to your house to look for you. You didn't let me in and took me to the hotel instead. That means you don't trust me, right? It's okay. I don't trust you either."

Stunned by the boy's frankness, Forrest stared at him.

"If you don't trust me, then why did you come looking for me?"

Forrest asked.

The boy paused, his focus on his meal.

“Why won't you answer?" Forrest pressed.

In a low voice, Brewster responded, “My parents are gone. I have nowhere else to go."