Suddenly, the woman’s eyes flew open and she jolted upright. “No! Don’t take him!” she gasped. “Give me my son!” Michael raised his hands slowly. “It’s okay,” he said calmly. “He’s freezing. He needs warmth.” She tried to stand, but her legs shook beneath her. “I don’t need your pity,” she snapped, her pride louder than her strength. Michael didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced down at Kelly standing there in the snow, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes fixed on the baby with fierce concern. And in that moment, Michael realized something painful and undeniable: this wasn’t about charity, it wasn’t about money, it wasn’t even about saving someone else. It was about the kind of man he was teaching his daughter to become.