“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.

“Twelve,” she replied. “My name’s Ava. This is my brother, Ben.”

Ben’s cries softened as if sensing the attention, his small hand curling against Ava’s sleeve.

Nathaniel felt something stir in his chest, an old, unwelcome memory. He had been younger than Ava when his own mother used to ration meals, pretending she wasn’t hungry so he could eat. He hadn’t thought about that in decades. Success had a way of burying inconvenient memories.

“Stay right here,” he said, standing. “I’ll be back.”

Inside the grocery store, the air was cool and smelled faintly of bread and disinfectant. The cashier looked up, startled when Nathaniel placed a basket on the counter already filled with items — formula, milk, baby food, diapers, wipes, and more than a few things that would last. He added a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter almost as an afterthought.

“That’ll be—” the cashier began.

Nathaniel slid his card across the counter. “Just ring it up.”

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