And with that, he took his son by the shoulder and escorted him out of first class to economy. Middle seat, no complaints.
Just a pale-faced boy who suddenly looked ten years old. The rest of the flight passed in a haze. I cried in the bathroom for ten minutes straight.
I didn’t expect to hear from him again. But three days later, a letter arrived at our apartment.
Inside was a check. $95,000. Made out to my mother.
There was a note.
“This is to cover all current and future treatments.
I hope it brings some peace.” But that’s not all.
Two days after that, he showed up in person. Not in a limo, not with a security detail. Just him, in a plain blue button-up, standing outside our shabby apartment like any other man.
My mom was stunned.
She recognized him immediately from the airline’s board photos. He asked to come inside. We made tea, and he was kind.
And then he said it. “The money I was planning to give my son to start his business… I’ve decided to give it to you instead.”
I froze.
He smiled gently.
“He needs to earn his path. You, Kara… you’ve earned everything ten times over.Continue reading…