Chapter 3 - The Worn-Down Door
Arthur's sleek black limousine looked entirely out of place in the crumbling, poverty-stricken neighborhood.
Mia led the billionaire up three flights of stairs in a building that smelled of damp mold and old cooking oil.
She stopped in front of apartment 3B and pushed open the unlocked, splintering door.
Inside, the tiny room was dimly lit, freezing cold, and cluttered with medical supplies.
A frail little boy, no older than four, lay on a mattress on the floor, breathing through a plastic tube.
A woman was asleep in a chair next to him, wearing faded scrubs and holding a cold cup of coffee.
"Mom, wake up," Mia whispered, shaking the woman's shoulder.
The woman jolted awake, her eyes darting around the room in absolute panic.
When she saw a man in a bespoke three-piece suit standing in her living room, she froze.
Arthur stepped forward into the dim light, preparing to introduce himself and offer a massive financial reward.
May you like
But as the streetlamp outside illuminated the woman's exhausted face, Arthur stopped dead in his tracks.
"Sarah?" Arthur gasped, the breath completely knocked out of his lungs.
