"I won't tell," he said.
Jimmy wanted to be polite and eat slowly, chewing small bites, as his mother had taught him. But in seconds the bread was gone and warming his stomach. He wiped his hands on his jeans.
"I'm not giving you any more," she told him.
"That's all right." He felt very shy and didn't want her to think it would ever occur to him to want more, even though he did.
"Because you need to eat your stew. And a salad, too."
"Yes, ma'am, I will," he assured her. "I can eat a lot. A whole lot."
"You ever seen a microscope?" Scarpetta asked him, as they got up from the table.
"What's a microscope?" he asked.
"Something that makes small things very big," she said, taking his hand.
They walked out of the kitchen together.