“Who’s there?”
Caught off guard, the stranger shuddered involuntarily.
Katelyn, too, pulled out her pistol, pointing it at the stranger with a stern command.
“Hands up, and step forward!”
The stranger quickly did as told. However, as he stepped forward with his hands raised, Vincent and Katelyn were shocked.
It was just a child!
He appeared about ten years old, visibly malnourished, and extremely skinny. Despite it being autumn, he was clad only in a threadbare T-shirt and pants, barefoot.
Why would a child be here?
Katelyn’s alertness intensified rather than decreased. Her gaze sharpened.
“Why were you coming toward our car? What are you really after?”
The child looked scared, his voice shaky.
“I’m just so hungry. I hoped to find some food in your car. Could you please give me something to eat?”
Tears started streaming down his face as he spoke. His arms were thin, barely more substantial than the twigs around him.
Vincent’s face remained hard, his tone cold.
“We don’t have any food in our car. You’ll need to look somewhere else.”
The sudden appearance of a child begging in such a suspicious place raised alarms. After many encounters with hidden threats, Vincent’s sense of compassion had waned.
He began to suspect that what seemed like a rescue could actually be inviting danger, like unwittingly aiding a foe in disguise.
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Sensing Vincent’s skepticism, the boy’s crying grew even more desperate.
“I’m not a bad person, I swear! My family lives just around here. My father was a victim in the illegal black market dealings, my mother is sick, and we just had a newborn baby girl. I had no other choice but to do this. All I need is a meal.”
His words, paired with his severely emaciated appearance, naturally stirred feelings of compassion. Get full chapters from find(?)ovel.net
Yet, Katelyn’s brow creased slightly, a sense of familiarity washing over her as she felt she had heard this tale before. She recalled a recent visit to a bar where a young man in search of a sugar mommy shared a similar story—a dead father, an ailing mother, a young sister, and his own shattered life. Could this story be a rehearsed script?
Katelyn’s fleeting sympathy evaporated.
With a cold smile, she scoffed, “Even if you’re desperate, why pick such a desolate spot to beg?”
The boy, now weeping intensely, had tears streaming down his face. Shaking, he gazed at Katelyn and Vincent, and then suddenly knelt before them, bowing deeply.
“I believe you’re kind-hearted. All I ask is enough food to fill our bellies. Please, help save my family. It’s getting colder, and without food, we might not survive the freeze.”
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