Her heart jumped violently. She nodded, her voice barely audible when she replied, “Yes, sir.”
He exhaled, relief flickering briefly across his face.
“My name is Aaron Wallace,” he said. “The elderly man you have been helping every day near the unfinished building by the bus stop is my father.”
The words struck her like cold water. Her mind struggled to connect the gentle, confused man she fed with leftovers to the man standing in front of her who clearly belonged to a different world.
“That man,” she whispered, stunned, “he is your father?”
Aaron nodded. “His name is Harold Wallace.”
Felicity felt the ground tilt beneath her. Images flooded her thoughts. Harold sitting on the curb with shaking hands. Harold thanking her every day like it was a prayer. Harold asking the same questions over and over with quiet embarrassment.
Aaron leaned closer and lowered his voice. “My father suffers from severe episodic memory loss. When it happens, he forgets who he is and where he belongs. He wanders, and he stays wherever kindness finds him.”
Felicity pressed her lips together, emotion tightening her chest.
“I found him this morning,” Aaron continued. “He described you, your apartment, and the way you always brought him food even when you had very little yourself.”
The neighbors watched openly now, whispering with wide eyes.
Aaron straightened and said firmly, “Thank you for taking care of my father when nobody else did.”
Felicity shook her head quickly. “I just fed him. That is all.”
Aaron studied her closely. “You did more than that.”
He glanced around her surroundings, at the peeling paint, the uneven floor, the thin curtain, and then back at her tired face.
“Where do you work?” he asked.
“At a diner downtown,” she replied quietly. “Lakeview Grill.”
Aaron nodded slowly. “That diner belongs to my company.”
Her knees almost failed her. He continued without hesitation. “As of today, you are the general manager of Lakeview Grill.”
The world seemed to stop moving. No one spoke. Even the birds on the power line above fell silent.
“I do not understand,” Felicity said, fear overtaking shock. “Sir, I am only a server.”
Aaron met her gaze steadily. “You are someone who chose kindness when no one was watching. That matters more to me than experience.”
She tried to protest, but he lifted his hand gently. “Come with me,” he said. “Please.”
