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He was half immersed in emails, half irritated at the world, when something made him stop walking mid-step, the way a sudden memory sometimes grips your chest and refuses to let go. At first, he thought maybe his eyes were deceiving him, maybe it was just another homeless figure in the city filled with silent tragedies, but when he really looked, his heart slammed so hard he felt slightly dizzy.
Sitting against an old brick wall, wrapped in a battered coat that barely counted as clothing, with hair tangled by cold wind and hopeless days, was a woman he never thought life would throw back at him again. And not just alone. Three children huddled tightly beside her, small bodies pressed together for warmth, cheeks flushed from freezing air, eyes too wise for children their age. She held a cardboard sign written in shaky letters:
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