On a gray winter afternoon in Chicago, as holiday traffic hummed through the streets, Mason Wilder stepped out of a sleek rental car and pulled his scarf tighter against the cold. He had flown in from Seattle the night before and was preparing for a high-stakes investor meeting. His mind was on quarterly projections until something near the entrance of a convenience store caught his attention.

A small bundle of blankets sat pressed against the brick wall, unmoving except for the slight tremble of the youngest child inside. Three children huddled together, their cheeks red from the cold. At their side was a woman, her coat frayed at the sleeves and her hair pulled back into a tired knot. She held a sign written in shaky handwriting that read, Please help us.

Mason took a step forward and felt the breath leave his body. The woman was Taryn Ellis. He had not seen her in nearly eight years.