He thought his employee was going to a warm house, but he found her sleeping on a bench in the rain. When he saw the three pale faces she was hiding under her coat, his life of luxury crumbled in an instant.

It was then that Caio saw something in that woman’s eyes that he had never seen in any boardroom: a despair so profound, so absolute, that it took his breath away. He was looking into the abyss. And he was about to discover that he had been walking on the edge of that abyss without ever looking down.

Caio felt his legs give way. He knelt on the wet pavement, not caring that his designer pants were ruined in the mud. He was on the same level as her now.

“Livia, for God’s sake…” her voice was a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing here? Whose children are these?”

Livia’s tears finally flowed, mingling with the rain that streamed down her cheeks. She no longer had the strength to maintain the facade. She broke down emotionally.

“They’re my nephews, sir,” she sobbed, hugging the little ones tighter. “My brother… my brother died in a motorcycle accident two weeks ago. And their mother… their mother just left the hospital. She left them there. She said she couldn’t handle three. She disappeared.”

Livia gasped for breath, an agonized sound.

“I couldn’t leave them in the system, Mr. Caio. I couldn’t let them be separated. They’re my blood. But… my landlord kicked me out. He said three crying babies were too much trouble. He gave me until today to leave. I’ve been wandering… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to bother you. I know you don’t like trouble.”

Caio felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “He doesn’t like problems.” That phrase echoed in his head. Was that the image he projected? A man so cold that his employee preferred to sleep on the street with three newborns in the rain rather than ask him for help?

Don Geraldo, who had been listening in silence, stepped forward. His eyes, which had witnessed so much hardship in life, were filled with tears. He took off his wool coat and, with infinite tenderness, placed it over Livia’s shoulders and the babies’.

“No one should have to go through this. No one,” Geraldo said firmly. He looked at the empty bottles in the bag. “Have they eaten?”

Livia lowered her gaze, ashamed.

—Not since this morning. I ran out of milk.

The cry of one of the babies grew sharper. It was a cry of hunger, a primal sound that tore at the soul.

“Damn it!” Caio shouted, not at her, but at the universe, at his own blindness. He jumped to his feet. “Dad, keep her. I’ll bring the car right here.”