For the first time in weeks, Henry felt something inside him loosen. The constant pressure he had been carrying—the grief, the expectations, the need to appear in control—felt lighter as he watched this young man soothe his daughter so naturally.
When the plane finally landed in Zurich and passengers stood to gather their belongings, Henry reached for Mason before he stepped away.
The teen paused. “I’m not sure yet, sir. I’m saving up to apply for scholarships. I’d like to work with children one day. Maybe become a pediatrician.”
Henry glanced down at Nora, still sleeping peacefully in his arms. He thought of everything the teen had offered that day without hesitation. Compassion. Steadiness. Hope.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a gold business card.
“When you get home, contact me,” he said. “We’ll make sure you have what you need to pursue that goal.”
Mason froze, stunned. It was clear he hadn’t expected anything in return. For a moment, he simply held the card, unsure what to say.
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