The streets were eerily quiet that night, the cold air pressing down like an invisible weight. Daniel Cole, a millionaire entrepreneur in his early 40s, sped through the Parkway in his yellow Lamborghini. The hum of the engine was his only companion as he tried to clear his mind of the day’s endless meetings and hollow conversations. Business success had made him powerful, but it had also left him hollow.
As he turned down a dimly lit path lined with benches and leafless trees, he caught sight of a small figure curled up at the far end of a bench. Daniel’s instincts told him to keep driving. It wasn’t his problem. But then he saw the boy’s face illuminated briefly by a flickering streetlight.
The child couldn’t have been older than eleven. His dark skin was smudged with dirt, and his oversized shirt clung limply to his thin frame. Next to him was a battered backpack—nearly torn apart. Daniel slowed the car. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the haunting stillness of the boy’s posture or the way his small hands clutched the bag like a lifeline. He cracked the…..Read Full Story Here………………………………