As he wandered past a quiet avenue lined with iron fences and snow-covered gardens, a faint sound caught his attention. A small, trembling cry, almost lost to the wind, pulled him forward. Leo paused, debating whether to ignore it and find shelter, but compassion urged him onward.
In the garden of a grand, fog-shrouded mansion, he spotted a tiny figure huddled against a wall, shivering violently. The little girl could not have been more than six years old. Her pajamas, decorated with a cartoon princess, were soaked and completely inadequate for the bitter cold. Her small feet were bare, her cheeks pale, and her lips were already tinged blue. Snowflakes clung to her tears, freezing before they could hit the ground.
Leo stepped closer, trying not to frighten her. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked gently.
The girl looked up at him, wide-eyed and trembling. “Who are you?” she whispered.
“My name is Leo,” he said, kneeling down so he could meet her eyes.
“My name is Emma,” she replied, hugging her knees to her chest. “My dad is inside. I… I don’t know how to get in. I’m so cold… and so scared.”