Nathan was rushing to the airport for yet another flight when something caught his eyesomething so unexpected, he had to pull over.
The day had been ordinary enough, apart from the pouring rain outside. He was in a hurry, already running late, when he spotted a woman standing in the downpour with a little boy. For a second, he considered driving on, but guilt pricked at him. He stopped, stepped out, and walked over.
“Hello, are you alright? Why are you out here with this little one in the rain?” he asked.
The woman hesitated. “We’ve nowhere to go,” she said softly. “My husbandwell, it’s a long story. I dont know whats going to happen to us now.”
Without thinking twice, Nathan fished out his house keys and told his driver to take them back to his flat in London, make sure they had everything they needed until he returned.
The driver bundled them into the car while Nathan carried on to Heathrow.
Two weeks later, back from his trip, he headed straight to his flat. He knocked, but no one answered. The door was unlocked, so he let himself in.
What he saw inside stopped him dead.
His breath hitched. The woman and child in the living room werent the same ones hed met in the rain. Toys were neatly scattered across the rug, a hot meal sat on the table, and on the piano, a small note read: *Thank you for your kindness. Were home now.*
Then his gaze drifted to the corner.
A boy, no older than seven, curled up under a thick wool blanket. He was a strangerand yet not. Those eyesthe same as the toddler in the rain, just older.
The woman looked up and gave a small, uneasy smile. “He found us on his own. Weve been calling him our little miracle.”
Nathan exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing, but something else stirred inside him. This wasnt just gratitude. It was something deepersomething mysterious, like a secret waiting to be uncovered.
