He looked down. A thin girl, maybe seven, stood before him. Her curly hair was tied back unevenly, her clothes oversized and worn. In her dirty hands, she held a piece of bread like it was precious.
“No, sweetheart… I’m not hungry,” he said, forcing steadiness.
She frowned and lifted the bread.
“Then why are you crying? My mom says people cry for two reasons: hunger or missing someone. If it’s not hunger… it’s missing someone.”
The truth, spoken so simply, broke him.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I miss someone.”
“My name’s Julia Carter, but people call me Jules,” she said, grinning and revealing a missing tooth.
She studied him, then split the bread in half and handed him a piece.
“I can’t fix missing someone,” she said. “But I can share my bread. Sharing helps the heart.”
Michael, a man who owned everything, accepted the most sincere gift he’d felt in years.
“You look lost,” Jules said. “Trying to get somewhere?”
He pointed toward the glass tower of Northstar Financial.
“I should be there. Big meeting.”
Her eyes sparkled.
“I know a shortcut. Five minutes.”