Snow clung to the edges of the high-rise windows in downtown Chicago, gleaming beneath the streetlights in a strangely gentle hush. Inside the towering structure of Elmcrest Development’s headquarters, Grayson Miller closed his laptop after yet another exhausting meeting that had dragged far past the hour he had planned. He was forty years old, impeccably dressed in a wool coat tailored to fit the precise lines of his shoulders, and his phone buzzed constantly like an overeager insect demanding attention.
His life was stuffed to the brim with contracts, negotiations, acquisitions, and everything that came with being the CEO of a corporation that practically built half the skyline. He stepped outside, bracing against the chill, intending to call for his driver. The snow on the sidewalk sparkled like broken glass scattered beneath the glow of traffic signals.
For a brief second, the cold made him feel awake in a way he had not for months, maybe years. He inhaled, thinking about nothing in particular, when a small voice tugged at his attention. “Excuse me, sir.
Can you help me, please?” The sound was soft and quivering, almost swallowed by the wind. Grayson lowered his gaze. A little girl stood in front of him, bundled in a faded purple coat that looked like it had once belonged to someone larger, sleeves rolled nearly to her elbows.
She had freckles dusted across her cheeks like snowflakes that never melted, tangled auburn hair spilling from beneath a knit hat, and large brown eyes that shimmered with panic. He crouched despite the wet concrete threatening to ruin his expensive trousers. “What is it?
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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