“Here you go.”Elaine returned with two other waiters trailing behind her, each balancing trays heavy with food. Plates were placed carefully on the table—burgers stacked high, fries still steaming, sauces arranged neatly, drinks set down with practiced ease.Luke let out a low whistle, rubbing his palms together like a child on a long-awaited holiday.“Woah… now this is what I’m talking about.”Levi glanced at the spread briefly, then leaned back in his chair, arms relaxed, eyes wandering across the diner. For a moment, he wasn’t the CEO of a sprawling conglomerate or the man whose name had set the entire town buzzing. He was just a hungry traveler sitting at a roadside diner, surrounded by the familiar hum of clinking cutlery and murmured conversations.“Enjoy,” Elaine said, her smile polite but cautious, as if she could feel something unusual in the air but couldn’t quite place it.She turned and walked away slowly, stealing a glance over her shoulder before disappearing inside.Fo

After close to an hour of catching up—of warm tea, softer laughter, and memories that felt both distant and too close—Levi’s phone vibrated against the diner table. The sound cut through the calm like a blade. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening before he even picked up.“Vanessa,” he said quietly as he rose from his seat and stepped aside.“I’m sorry to disturb you,” her voice came through brisk and apologetic, business slipping into concern. “But the bank manager just called. Someone has gone in to claim Martha’s house. She insists she knew her personally and says since Martha has no surviving family, she’s entitled to take over the property. From the way it sounded… she’s already on her way there.”Levi closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, the weight of years pressing into his chest.“Haa…” he sighed. “Alright. I’ve got it.”He ended the call and stood there for a moment longer, staring at nothing. The diner noise faded into the background. When he turned back, Mr. Snow was

Levi went to the cemetery with only Joe beside him.He had asked Luke to stay back—to quietly look into a few names, a few faces from the past who had once been kind when kindness was scarce. This part, however, was his alone. Some moments were not meant to be witnessed.The car rolled to a stop at the far end of the cemetery, away from the noise of the town. Joe remained by the vehicle, respectful and distant, while Levi walked forward on his own, flowers clutched loosely in his hand.The grave stood out immediately.It always did.Years ago, when Martha had died, Levi had barely scraped together enough money to give her a burial. Back then, grief had been heavy and money painfully light. There had been no proper coffin—just wood, rough and unfinished. No tiles. No marble. No engraved headstone. Just blocks stacked together, marking a place that deserved so much more.But now—Now her grave was one of the finest in the cemetery.White marble framed it neatly, polished tiles sealing t

Many people stood by the roadside, on balconies, behind shop windows, watching as the long convoy rolled slowly through Northwood Crest. The black vehicles moved in perfect order, polished and imposing, their engines humming with quiet authority. Everyone knew what it meant.They were leaving.Whispers followed the cars as they passed—some filled with awe, others with regret, envy, or shame. Phones were lifted discreetly. Children pointed. Adults pretended not to stare, yet stared all the same.The convoy passed the newly rebuilt bank, its glass façade reflecting sunlight, standing as a symbol of what Levi had done in mere days. It passed the orphanage next, the modest building standing quietly behind a rusted gate. Levi glanced out of the window as they drove by, his gaze lingering a second too long.Something tugged at him.A sense of responsibility.A pull he couldn’t quite name.Then they approached the public park.Children’s laughter drifted through the air, light and carefree.

That evening, Tommy stumbled into the house long after sunset, his steps uneven, his jacket hanging loosely from one shoulder. The sharp smell of alcohol followed him inside like a shadow.The door had barely clicked shut when his mother’s door flew open.“So?” she demanded, rushing into the sitting room, her eyes wild with desperate hope. “Did you get to him?”Tommy laughed—low, hollow—and shook his head as he collapsed onto the couch.The sound froze her in place.She stared at him, disbelief washing over her face. “Tommy… are you drunk?”He lifted his head slowly, squinting as if the room were spinning. “Nope,” he said, slurring slightly. “I’m not.”Her jaw clenched. In one swift motion, she marched over and slapped him hard on the head.“Are you being serious right now?” she yelled.“Ouch, Mum!” he winced, holding his head. “Can you lower your voice? I’ve got a killer headache.”She stood there for a moment, stunned—then let out a bitter laugh that quickly turned into a sob.“We h