Emma’s spoon stopped halfway to her mouth. “Our father is traveling for work,” she answered, a little too fast. “We were staying with family, but… well, it didn’t work out.”
Daniel didn’t push for more. He knew the look of pain when he saw it, and he recognized the sound of a story someone was trying to hide.
From a makeshift fort of blankets on the sofa, Leo peered out, his eyes wide. “Dad,” he whispered, “are they angels?”
Lily let out a small, soft laugh. “Not even close.”
For the first time in ages, Daniel’s quiet, tired house felt full. The girls insisted on helping wash the few dishes, they took turns reading a storybook to Leo, and they thanked him for every small gesture as if he’d given them a feast. When it was clear Leo was fading, Daniel offered them the only bed, saying he and Leo would take the couch. They protested, but he wouldn’t hear it.
Much later that night, Daniel woke from a stiff sleep on the couch. He saw Emma standing by the living room window, just staring out at the rain, which was still coming down hard.
“You should try to get some rest,” he whispered, not wanting to wake the others.
She turned, and he could see her eyes were shiny. “I can’t,” she admitted. “I keep thinking about my dad. We had a huge fight before I left. I said some awful things.”
Daniel fumbled for words, not knowing what to offer. Instead, he just put a hand gently on her shoulder. “Parents have a way of forgiving more than you’d think,” he said.
She gave him a weak, watery smile. “Do sons?”
That single question hung in the quiet room long after she had returned to the bedroom.
By sunrise, the storm had finally broken. The girls insisted on making breakfast, which turned out to be a plate of slightly burnt toast and runny eggs. But the sound of quiet laughter in the kitchen made it taste better than any meal Daniel could remember eating in years.
A sleek, black sedan suddenly rolled to a stop out front, its tires crunching on the wet gravel. Daniel figured it was a neighbor, maybe late for work. Then, the car door flew open and a man practically fell out.
He was a tall man, wearing an expensive raincoat, and he looked breathless. His face was a mask of pure panic. “Emma! Lily!” he shouted.
The girls gasped in unison and ran outside. The man collapsed to his knees on the damp ground, pulling them both into a desperate hug. “Thank God,” he kept whispering, over and over.
Daniel moved to the doorway, uncertain whether to interrupt or stay back. The man looked up, his eyes finding Daniel. They were fierce, and still held a trace of desperation. “You,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re the one who let them in?”
Daniel nodded slowly. “They were lost. The storm was bad. I just… I gave them a warm place to stay.”
The tightness in the stranger’s expression finally eased. “You have absolutely no idea,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “what you have done.”
He stood up, reached into his coat, and pulled out a business card. It felt heavy in his own hand, almost like metal. The letters were raised and gleaming: Charles Langford — Langford Global Holdings…
