“I’ll be okay,” Walter lied.
But the doctors spoke differently. Lung disease. Advanced. Treatment was expensive.
With no money, Mateo did what he had always done—he asked strangers for help. He begged harder than ever.
One afternoon, he overheard two women chatting excitedly about a lavish wedding taking place at a historic estate overlooking the Pacific in Santa Barbara. “The event of the year,” one called it. “Champagne fountains, live orchestra, celebrity guests.”
Mateo’s stomach burned with hunger. He hadn’t eaten properly in two days.
Maybe rich people had leftovers.
He took a bus as far as he could, then walked the rest.
The estate shimmered under the golden California sun. White roses lined the stone staircase. Crystal lights hung from trees. Tables overflowed with lobster, steak, delicate pastries, and sparkling drinks.
Mateo stood near the service entrance, small and dusty against the elegance.
A young catering assistant noticed him hovering.
“Hey,” she whispered, glancing around. “You hungry?”
He nodded.
She handed him a warm plate piled with food.
“Sit behind that column and eat quick. Don’t let security see you.”
“Thank you,” he said softly.