“Are you threatening us? Because then I’ll call the police.”
“There’s no need,” he said, smiling slightly.
“What’s going on? Explain yourself before I slam the door.”
“Ten years ago, your daughter helped me. Now it’s my turn to help her.”
“How did I help you?” I whispered, my heart pounding as a cold sensation ran through my chest.
“She brought me turkey sandwiches.”
“Who are you?”
“Can I come in?”
Arthur entered the apartment, revealing that the homeless man we’d once pitied now held my daughter’s life in his hands.
“My name is Arthur,” the man said, stepping fully into our cramped living room.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, gripping the doorframe. “Why are you here?”
“Ten years ago, I was sitting on a bench in a park near the bus station,” he replied. “I had lost everything. My family, my home, my will to live.”
I stared at his expensive dark suit in utter disbelief.
“Were you the homeless man?” I whispered. “The one Emma fed?”
