Don’t interfere, the world had taught him.
Don’t turn away, his father had taught him.
The city continued around them, indifferent. Then Karina swayed slightly, one hand pressing to her forehead. The boy reached for her, alarm flaring in his eyes. She forced a smile—thin, protective, unconvincing.
Leonardo moved.
He approached with care, voice low, chosen with intent. “Excuse me… I’m sorry to interrupt. Are you feeling alright?”
Karina looked up, startled. Her eyes were amber-colored, weary but proud. She adjusted her loose sweater, straightening as though dignity could be restored through posture alone.
“We’re fine, sir,” she said. Her voice cracked at the end.
The boy stepped in front of her instinctively.
Leonardo noticed everything—the pale skin, the shallow breaths, the tremor she couldn’t hide. “Forgive me for asking again… but you don’t look well. Would you like me to call someone?”
She shook her head, offering a practiced smile. “God will provide.”
He didn’t consider himself religious, but hearing faith spoken by someone holding so little disarmed him completely.
“When did you last eat a full meal?” he asked gently.
Karina looked away. The children clung to her arms. “This morning,” she said—but her body betrayed the lie.
Then everything collapsed.
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