“Just come,” he replied. “You’ll understand then.”
The line went dead.
Ruth frowned when I told her. “Be careful, Miranda. You don’t know who that is.”
“I know,” I said, glancing at the clock. “But what if it’s someone connected to the baby?”
By four o’clock, I stood in the lobby. The security guard studied me before picking up the phone.
“Top floor,” he finally said. “He’s expecting you.”
The elevator ride felt endless. When the doors opened, I stepped into a space of polished marble and hushed air.
A man with silver hair sat behind a massive desk. When he looked up, his expression shifted.
“Sit,” he said.
I did.
He leaned forward, his voice trembling. “That baby you found…” He swallowed hard. “He’s my grandson.”
My hands went cold.
“Your… grandson?” I whispered.
He nodded, his composure cracking.
“My son,” he said roughly, “walked out on his wife two months ago. Left her alone with a newborn. We tried to help, but she stopped answering our calls. Yesterday, she left a note. Said she couldn’t do it anymore.”
He covered his face with one hand. “She blamed us. Said if we wanted the baby so badly, we could find him ourselves.”
My heart clenched. “So she left him… on that bench?”
He nodded slowly. “She did. And if you hadn’t walked by…” His voice broke. “He wouldn’t be alive.”
Then, to my shock, he stood, walked around the desk, and knelt in front of me.
“You saved my grandson,” he said. “You gave me back my family.”
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