“Papa!” she called in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He smiled gently. “My child.”
She sat beside him and asked where he stayed. He told her he sometimes slept in a store behind a nearby shop when the owner allowed it.
Angela’s heart dropped. “Papa… would you like to come to my house? It’s small, but my mother and I can manage.”
He shook his head. “No, my child. You have done enough.”
Then Angela noticed how weak he looked.
“Papa, have you eaten today?”
He smiled faintly. “No.”
Angela stood up at once. “Wait here. I’ll go home and bring you food.”
He stopped her gently. “Give me your phone number before you go.”
Angela blinked. “I’ll be back soon.”
“I know,” he said. “Still, give it to me.”
Angela searched her purse and brought out a folded paper. “I wrote it down in case anyone calls me for a job.”
Papa James took it with a thoughtful smile. “Good child.”
Angela pointed at him. “Please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back quickly.”
She ran home, packed some food, and hurried back.
But he was gone.
Her heart jumped into her throat.
“Papa James?”
She asked a nearby woman selling vegetables if she had seen him.
“Yes,” the woman said. “A big car came. Important people picked him up.”
Angela froze.
A big car?
