At first glance, he looked like any other homeless kid trying to get attention. But his eyes—sharp, unwavering—held something deeper. Something unsettling.
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
Was this some kind of cruel joke?
He had fought too hard, lost too much, to tolerate false promises from a child.
He was about to dismiss him, to wave him off with cold authority—
When he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve.
Lily.
His breath caught.
She was looking at the boy.
Not through him. Not past him. At him.
For the first time in months, there was life in her eyes—faint, flickering, but real.
“Let him try,” she whispered, her voice fragile but clear.
Ethan froze.
Hope… was a dangerous thing. It had broken him before. But hearing her speak—really speak—cracked something open inside him.
Against all logic, against every instinct screaming at him to protect what little stability they had left…
He nodded.
Noah didn’t ask for money.
He didn’t ask for anything.
Just a chance.
They arranged for him to visit their home—a sleek, glass-walled penthouse overlooking the city. Security was tight. Ethan wasn’t reckless.