Ethan gripped the phone tighter. “Who is this?”

A pause. Then a steady voice. “You don’t know me, but you helped my niece and her father. We heard what you did. And we want to help you.”

Ethan blinked. His mind was still clouded with worry about his dwindling bank account, his lost dream car, and the uncertainty of what came next. “I don’t understand.”

The line clicked dead.

Ethan debated ignoring it. Maybe he’d done enough. Maybe he’d already lost too much. But something about the girl’s desperate face, the way she had run straight to him, made him feel like he was part of this now. He had already stepped in. What was one more step?

The next day, Ethan stood on the corner of Willow and 3rd, arms crossed, stomach tight. The bakery smelled of fresh bread and cinnamon, but he wasn’t hungry.

A woman in her mid-forties approached, her short black hair pulled back, her face kind but serious. “Ethan?”

“I’m Maria. I’m Lily’s aunt.”

Lily. The little girl with the pebbles. Ethan exhaled.

“Her dad—my brother—he’s going to make it, thanks to you,” Maria said. “I know you paid for his treatment. I know it cost you everything.”

Ethan shifted uncomfortably. “I just… I just did what anyone should do.

Maria shook her head. “Not anyone would. But you did. And we’re here to make it right.”

“We?” Ethan asked.

A second later, a man stepped forward from a nearby car. He was dressed in a suit but looked like he belonged anywhere—like someone who could blend in at a high-rise office or a neighborhood barbecue. He studied Ethan carefully before extending his hand. “Name’s Daniel.”

Ethan shook it, still confused.

Daniel smiled. “I run a foundation that helps people like you—people who step up when no one else will. We find those who give without expecting anything back. And we give back to them.”

Ethan frowned. “I don’t do things expecting a reward.”

Maria nodded. “Which is exactly why you deserve one.”

The next hour was surreal. Over coffee, Maria and Daniel explained their offer: a job at Daniel’s nonprofit, one that paid well and actually mattered. They helped families in crisis, people who slipped through the cracks. People like Lily’s dad.

“We could use someone like you,” Daniel said. “You know what it means to sacrifice for someone else. That’s rare.”

Ethan hesitated. He had been a corporate guy, stuck in spreadsheets and meetings that drained the life out of him. The dream had always been to save enough to buy that car—his escape. Now, that dream felt…small.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t have experience in charity work.”

Daniel chuckled. “You didn’t have experience saving a life, either, but you did it anyway. That’s what matters.”

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