In the front row sat Victor and Elena, Grace between them—eight years old, braids flying as she waved wildly at her big brother.
After the ceremony, the family gathered on the lawn. Grace ran to Marcus, hugging his legs.
“You did it,” she said, beaming.
He knelt. “We did it.”
Later that night, back at the family estate, Marcus found Victor in the study.
“You ever regret it?” Marcus asked quietly. “Taking a chance on a street kid?”
Victor looked at the photo on his desk: the four of them at Grace’s christening—MARCUS holding the baby like she was made of glass.
“Regret?” Victor repeated. “Son, you’re the best investment I ever made.”
Marcus smiled—small, real.
Outside, the city lights glittered like they had that rainy night years ago.
Only this time, no one was stranded.
And no one was invisible.
