Joshua shifted, unsure how to respond. Robert continued, more gently now. “Listen. I don’t believe in handouts. But I do believe in second chances. I’d like to offer you a job. Night security at my office. It’s honest work. Comes with a paycheck. And a place for both of you.” He glanced at Lucky, who sat wagging politely.
That night, Joshua stood under the streetlamp outside the mayor’s office, wearing a clean uniform, shoulders square. His shoes were still scuffed, but they fit. Lucky sat at his side, a small tag on his collar that read “COMPANION.” For the first time in a long time, the city didn’t feel like it was swallowing him whole. It felt like he’d carved out one small, steady place—and it was enough.