I Paid for a Toddler’s Insulin After His Mom’s Card Was Declined – Two Days Later, a Rough-Looking Guy Showed Up at My Door with a Threat

The next morning, my phone buzzed while I was giving Ava and Nova their cold medicine.

“Open wide, monkey,” I said, and Nova giggled as she made a show of hating the taste.

“Can we have pancakes again?” Ava asked as she climbed into my lap.

My phone vibrated on the nightstand; it was from Tessa.

“Thank you again, Charlie. Matthew is feeling so much better and it’s all thanks to you.”

There was an image attached: it was Matthew, smiling with a juice box and a toy dinosaur in hand.

I smiled without thinking.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” Ava asked.

“Just someone saying thank you,” I said.

And I saved the number.

Two days later, I was trying to get Ava to wear matching socks and Nova to find her white sneakers.

It was one of those mornings where exhaustion clung to me like a second skin. There were cereal spills on the kitchen counter, and Ava remembered that she had a poster due that day.

Then came the pounding on the front door.

Not knocking; pounding. All I could imagine was a heavy, deliberate fist hitting wood like it had a score to settle.

I opened it.

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