I stared down at the papers in the folder, my eyes moving too fast to truly understand what I was seeing. Legal documents. Certificates. A carefully typed letter with my name printed neatly at the top.
For a moment, the room felt unsteady, as if the floor itself had shifted.
When the meaning finally settled in, I looked up at him, stunned.
The man who had once collapsed at my door in a storm had built something remarkable. Not just a successful business, but one centered on affordable housing and emergency support for people facing homelessness. It wasn’t about profit alone. It was about giving others the same chance he had been given.
Inside the folder was a deed.
To a small house.
Fully paid for.
And it was in my name.
