Nathan hurried towards Heathrow, his mind fixed on the next flight. But what he saw through the rain-streaked window made him slam the brakes.
The day had been ordinary, save for the relentless downpour outside.
He was racing to the airport, already running late, when he spotted hera woman standing in the storm, clutching a small child to her chest. For a heartbeat, he told himself to keep driving. But the pang in his chest was too sharp to ignore. He pulled over, stepped into the rain, and approached her.
“Are you alright? What are you doing out here with this little one?” he asked, voice raised over the drumming rain.
“I’ve nowhere to go,” she said, water streaming down her face. “My husband threw us out. I don’t know whatll become of us.”
Without a second thought, Nathan fished out his keys and handed them to his driver. “Take them to my flat. Make sure they have everything they need until I return.”
The driver ushered them into the warmth of the car, and Nathan watched them disappear into the grey downpour before turning back towards the airport.
Two weeks later, he returned. He knocked once, twiceno answer. The door was unlocked. He pushed it open.
What he saw inside stopped him dead.
The air was thick with the scent of roast chicken, toys scattered neatly across the rug. A small note rested on the piano: *Thank you for your kindness. Were home now.*
Then his gaze fell to the corner.
A child, wrapped in a tartan blanket, curled up like a kitten. A strangeryet somehow familiar. The same eyes as the toddler in the rain only older. A boy of six or seven.
The woman looked up, her smile soft but uneasy. “He found us on his own,” she whispered. “We call him our little miracle.”
Nathan exhaled, the tension draining from his shoulders. But beneath the relief swirled something darkera mystery, pulling him deeper. This wasnt just gratitude.
It was the beginning of something he couldnt yet name.
