𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗼𝗿𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗹, 𝗝𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗘…
For nearly half an hour, Jack had been watching through the window of his car as two small, thin, fragile figures wandered around the garbage dump, picking things up off the ground and putting them in their mouths.
At one time, in our childhood, we used to come here too,” Jack muttered aloud, thoughtfully. “Only we weren’t picking up scraps—we were picking berries. And yes, we’d eat them right away.
Mr. Jack, maybe we should leave… I can barely breathe,” said his personal driver, holding a handkerchief over his nose.
“What’s wrong, Mike? Don’t like the smell of the homeland?” Jack asked with a bitter grin.
He opened the car door and stepped outside. The stench was so strong, it stung his eyes.
The girls were still picking something up and eating, and Jack’s heart tightened.
“Hey, girls! Come here!” he called out, motioning to them.
They looked in his direction and slowly walked toward him without much enthusiasm. One of the girls came close, while the other kept her distance, watching cautiously and picking her nose.
“Emily, don’t go! Who knows what he wants?” the one standing back said.
“Don’t be scared, what can he do to us?” replied the braver one.
They were filthy. Their hair was so matted it looked like a tangled nest. Their clothes were torn and stained. They were nearly barefoot—just scraps of fabric wrapped around their feet. It was clear they had never known parental care
Where are your mom and dad?” Jack asked.
“We don’t have a mom—she died,” yelled the girl who stayed back.
“And we’ve never seen our dad,” said the one who came close.
From what Jack understood, the brave one’s name was Emily. He looked at their frail bodies and remembered himself and his brother. They had also been orphaned young.
Their father was killed by poachers, and their mother died of grief a year later. But he and his brother never felt abandoned. Their grandmother had raised them, helped them become who they were.
His brother was a year older, and he was the first to be drafted into the army. Unfortunately, he never came back. Their grandmother’s hair turned white overnight when she got the death notice.
She clung to Jack and whispered, “I won’t let you go.” And they didn’t take him.
First, because he was now her only grandchild.
Second, the doctors had found scoliosis. The army said they didn’t need someone with a crooked spine.
“Girls, are you hungry?” Jack asked.
“Of course,” the girls answered in unison. Only then did Jack notice how much they looked alike.
“Come on, hop in the car,” he winked at Emily. “Bring your sister too.”
“You’re not tricking us, right?” Emily asked.
“No, I promise I’m not.”
Emily turned to her sister and called out, “Sophie, come on, he’ll give us food and a ride!”
Sophie shook her head and stood still, clearly scared.
“I’m not that scary,” Jack told himself.
“Then I’m going alone!” Emily shouted and climbed into the car. “She’s always like this—afraid of everything.”
“Well, we can’t leave your sister behind.”
“We won’t. You give me food, buy some for her too, and bring it back.”
“That’s fair,” Emily said.
There was logic in her words. But Jack didn’t want the girls wandering around the landfill. That wasn’t the kind of man he was.
He didn’t do things halfway. If he started something, he saw it through to the end—the absolute end.
It was clear the girls needed urgent help, before something terrible happened, before someone else found them.
“Mr. Jack, you’ve got that meeting in less than an hour, and we still need to get back to the city,” the driver reminded him.
Rushing to his meeting, Jack brought the girls with him. And when they read the contract in CHINESE…
Jack stood in the gleaming lobby of an imposing skyscraper, the two sisters by his side. Their tattered clothes and dirty cheeks drew puzzled stares from the neatly dressed assistants and secretaries bustling around. But Jack ignored them, completely focused on the two girls.