It wasn’t cruel—at least, not intentionally—but it carried the sharp edge of disbelief that always follows a joke made at someone else’s expense.
At the center of the room stood Lucas Rivera, a thin twelve-year-old boy wearing a faded hoodie that was clearly too small for him. His sneakers were worn at the soles, the kind that told a story before he ever spoke.
Across from him, leaning casually against a polished conference table, was Victor Langston—a millionaire tech investor known for his sharp tongue and sharper mind. He was hosting a private innovation showcase, inviting engineers, linguists, and scholars to demonstrate rare skills.
Lucas was not on the guest list.
He had wandered in with his mother, the janitor, who had nowhere else to leave him after school.
Victor glanced at the paper Lucas was holding—a document printed in dense, unfamiliar script.
“What is this?” Victor asked, amused.
Lucas swallowed. “It’s… it’s a contract. I think. Written in multiple languages.”
Victor laughed. “Son, some of the best translators in this room couldn’t handle that.”
Lucas hesitated, then said quietly, “I think I can.”
The laughter returned—louder this time.
Victor raised an eyebrow. “You can?”