Intrigued by a dignity he hadn’t seen in the boardrooms of Wall Street, Arthur beckoned them closer. “What’s your name, son?”
“Leo Miller, sir. This is Chloe and little Toby.”
Arthur felt a pang of curiosity. “Where are your parents, Leo?”
Leo’s gaze flickered toward the skyscrapers. “Mom passed from the stress of the medical bills. Dad… he was a whistleblower at a big accounting firm. They blacklisted him. He tried, sir. He really tried. But six months ago, he went out to look for work and never came back. Now, it’s just us.”
Arthur looked at his own useless legs, then at the boy who was carrying the weight of the world. “I have everything, Leo, and I can’t even walk to the bathroom. Why do you want my scraps?”
Leo looked Arthur dead in the eye. He didn’t see a billionaire; he saw a man who had given up.
“Sir,” Leo said, “if you give us your leftovers tonight and give me a chance to work for you, I’ll help you walk again.”
Arthur let out a bitter dry laugh. “The best surgeons in the world couldn’t do it, Leo.”
“Surgeons work on bones, sir,” Leo replied softly. “I think you just need a reason to stand up. If you give us a place to stay and a job for me, I’ll give you that reason.”