He expected the envelope to vanish next. Instead, he heard paper sliding across wood. He cracked one eye open just enough to see Lily pushing the envelope farther onto the table so it wouldn’t fall. She straightened Henry’s leather notebook beside it.
“Safe now,” she whispered.
Then she returned to the rug, hugging herself for warmth. Her jacket stayed on Henry’s legs.
Something inside the old man cracked open—quietly, painfully.
The door burst open.
Brianna rushed in and froze.
Her daughter without her jacket. The jacket on Henry. The envelope untouched.
“Lily,” she gasped. “What did you do? Did you touch the money?”
“I only helped him,” Lily said softly.
Before Brianna could move, Henry stirred and sat upright. She nearly collapsed in fear.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” Brianna pleaded. “Please don’t punish her. I’ll leave. Please—just give me one more chance.”
Henry tapped the envelope and motioned Lily closer. The girl approached, trembling.
“Why did you put your jacket on me?” Henry asked.
“You looked cold,” Lily whispered. “Cold is cold. Mom says when someone’s cold, you help them.”
Henry exhaled slowly. The simplicity of it hurt.