## CHAPTER 2
That night, Nathan couldn’t sleep. He kept replaying what he’d seen — a little girl sewing alone as if she had to save the world in a building that could barely hold itself up. The next morning, he woke up early, something he almost never did unless work demanded it. Instead of driving straight to his office, he detoured to a corner store and bought bread, crackers, a few basics. When he knocked at 4B, softer this time, Lily opened the door faster. Nathan held up the grocery bags. “Brought you a few things,” he said. He set the bags down and crouched to her eye level. “Can I come in for a minute?” She didn’t say yes, but she stepped aside.
He asked if she’d eaten. She shrugged. “Tortillas with salt,” she said quietly. He sat on the one chair that seemed stable. “Is your mom still in the hospital?” She nodded, eyes down. “How long?” “Three days.” “And who’s taking care of you?” “Nobody. I’m fine.” Something in his chest tightened. “Why were you sewing yesterday?” Lily looked up, and for the first time, she seemed willing to talk. “I have to deliver some pillowcases. Miss Patty gives me a few dollars if I get them done right and fast.” “Who’s Miss Patty?” “Lives on the third floor. She taught me to sew when Mom got sick.” “What does your mom have?” Lily went quiet, bit her lip, glanced at the door like she wanted to bolt. “Leukemia,” she said at last, barely above a whisper.
“What do the doctors say?” “That she needs medicine and blood and an operation.” “Do you have insurance?” “No.” Nathan rubbed his face. He was a businessman who closed deals from an air-conditioned office. And here he was, in a room where the light barely made it through the curtains, listening to a seven-year-old explain that her mother was dying and that she was sewing to survive. “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” Lily shrugged. “I figured if you knew, you’d kick us out or call child services on me.” That landed like a blow. Lily wasn’t afraid of strangers. She was afraid of the system, of adults who make decisions without asking, of being taken from her mother. “I’m not going to do that,” he said, firm. “I’m not taking you anywhere without your say-so. I just want to help.” For the first time, Lily looked at him with something close to trust. “Who even are you?” Nathan smiled a little. “Let’s just say I own this building. But today, I’m not here as the landlord. Today, I’m just Nathan.” She nodded slowly, then poured him a cup of water in a plastic tumbler.
As she showed him the pillowcases she was working on, Nathan noticed a notebook in the corner full of drawings — Lily and a woman lying down with tubes running to her, a smile drawn a little sad, a heart between them, and underneath, in crooked handwriting: *Everything’s going to be okay, Mom.* Nathan knew right then he had to do something, whatever it took. He left the apartment with his chest aching. Before heading out, he stopped by 3A, where old Rosalind Carter lived, the neighbor who saw everything from her window and never pretended otherwise. “That poor girl Sarah,” Rosalind said, waving him in without waiting for the question, “she’s been fighting that blood cancer for months. And little Lily, bless her heart, she’s been on her own ever since her mama went back into the hospital. No family that I ever heard of. That child gets up early, buys the bread, cleans the house, does the laundry by hand, and sews on top of it. Sometimes I hear her crying at night, but what’s an old woman like me supposed to do?”
Nathan felt a lump rise in his throat. “Do you know which hospital her mother’s in?” “Cleveland General downtown, in oncology. I brought a blanket over once because those nights get cold in there. Nobody visits her, just the girl when she can.” Nathan thanked her and left in a hurry. He called his assistant to cover an important meeting and drove straight to the hospital, stopping to grab fruit, juice, and a thick blanket along the way. He found Sarah on the third floor, thin, pale, hair cropped short. “Hi, Sarah. I’m the landlord,” he said, sitting beside her. “I just wanted you to know your daughter is a fighter.” Sarah didn’t answer, but her lips moved slightly. He left the hospital feeling like the world had gone a shade grayer. That night, Nathan decided he wasn’t going to help from a distance with checks and favors. He was going to do it for real, even if it meant trouble, even if it meant going up against people in his own company.
