“I’ll repay you when I’m older,” the homeless girl pleaded as she asked the millionaire for a small carton of milk for her crying baby brother — and his reaction stunned everyone.

She held his gaze, steady and serious, as if this was a contract she fully intended to honor.

Nathaniel looked down at the baby, then back at the girl. Up close, he could see how thin her arms were, how carefully she held the child, like someone who had practiced this responsibility for a long time. “Where’s your family?” he asked.

Her eyes dropped for just a second. “They’re not here anymore,” she said quietly. “It’s just us.”

A couple of people slowed nearby, pretending to check their phones while listening. Someone whispered his name under their breath, recognizing him. Expectations hung in the air — most of them assuming he would shake his head, maybe hand her a bill, maybe nothing at all, and move on.

Instead, Nathaniel did something that surprised even himself. He crouched down so they were at eye level. The concrete was warm through his suit pants, an odd detail his mind latched onto.

“How old are you?” he asked.

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