He thought his employee was going to a warm house, but he found her sleeping on a bench in the rain. When he saw the three pale faces she was hiding under her coat, his life of luxury crumbled in an instant.

The rain fell relentlessly on the city, pounding the asphalt with a fury that seemed intent on washing away the sins of the world. From the window of his luxurious sedan, Caio watched as the raindrops distorted the neon lights of the shop windows. In his mid-forties, Caio had it all: a supermarket chain that dominated the market, a penthouse that touched the clouds, and a bank account with more zeros than he could count. Yet that night, a strange unease weighed heavily on his chest

Beside him, his father, Don Geraldo, gazed at the cityscape with tired but wise eyes. Geraldo was a man with calloused hands, a man who had built the foundations of the family fortune carrying boxes and sweeping floors. Despite the Italian suits he now wore, he had never forgotten the smell of hunger.

“Stop the car, son,” Geraldo murmured suddenly, breaking the silence that reigned in the vehicle.

“Dad? It’s pouring rain. What’s wrong?” Caio asked, frowning.

—I need air. The air conditioning in this car smells like money, but I’m missing the smell of life. Let’s walk around the square for a bit.