A Millionaire Demolished My Old House and Came Back on His Knees After Finding His Childhood Photo in the Ruins

“She stayed five years,” I said. “I treated her like a daughter.”

“Five years,” he echoed.

“When she was ready, I helped her get a little place,” I said.

“Used my savings. Helped her start a small business. She worked hard.

She did good. She never forgot you.”

He stared at the floor.

“Ten years ago,” he murmured. “When she died.”

“I was at the funeral,” I said.

“In the back. You gave a fine speech. You were already successful.

I was proud. I didn’t need you to know me. It was enough that she’d been loved.”

His face crumpled.

“She used to tell me,” he said, voice cracking, “‘There was a man who saved us when no one else would.’ I thought she meant a priest.

A social worker. I never thought…”

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