Flat.
Leo nodded quickly, already reaching into his pocket.
“I just came to return something,” he said.
But before he could explain, a fragment of conversation drifted toward him from the security desk.
“…Mr. Coleman’s baby… not responding…”
“…they’re saying it’s over…”
Leo’s head turned instinctively.
Something about the urgency in those voices made his chest tighten.
He hesitated only a second.
Then he moved.
An hour earlier, Leo had been walking along the edge of the financial district, scanning the sidewalks the way he always did—carefully, patiently, like someone who understood that small things mattered.
That was when he saw the wallet.
It was too clean to belong there.
Black leather. Heavy. Expensive.
Inside—more money than Leo had ever seen in one place.
And a card.
Richard Coleman — CEO.
Leo recognized the name. Everyone did. His face appeared in newspapers, on screens, in conversations that had nothing to do with boys who collected bottles for coins.
Leo stood there for a long moment, the wallet open in his hands.
He could have taken it.
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