“Please…anything helps.”
It was soft, almost apologetic.
Normally, Daniel would have walked past. The city was full of people asking for spare change. But something about the voice made him pause.
He turned.
Across the street, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, was a woman holding a small cardboard sign.
Beside her stood three little boys.
Daniel frowned.
They looked about four years old—thin but clean, wearing worn jackets that had clearly been donated by someone.
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