Her name was Sofia. The sign in front of her read, in uneven handwriting: “Miracles for a Coin.”
Lucas smirked and rolled closer. “You sell miracles?”
“I don’t sell them,” she replied calmly. “I make them.”
“And how does a child do that?” he pressed.
“With faith. And wanting good things for others.”
Her composure irritated him. “Where are your parents?”
“I don’t have any. I never did.”
“And where do you live?”
“Wherever I can stay dry.”
Something about her simplicity unsettled him. “So the miracle only works if I pay?”
“It works if you believe,” Sofia said softly.
“Belief didn’t fix my legs,” Lucas snapped.
“No,” she answered gently, “but it can help someone stand up inside.”
The words struck deeper than he expected. After a moment, he scoffed. “The world runs on power. And I have plenty.”
“I know,” she said, nodding.
Annoyed, half mocking, he tossed out his challenge. “Fine. Heal me, and I’ll adopt you.”
Sofia’s eyes filled with hope. “You mean it? I’ve always wanted a family.”
“I’ll try,” she said earnestly.