Tall. Composed. Wearing a tailored black coat. A leather briefcase in his hand. Snow dusted his dark hair. His expression carried mild frustration as he approached.
“We’re just talking, Daddy,” one of the girls—Lily or Emma, Emily couldn’t tell—said without looking away from her.
He reached them and immediately apologized.
“I’m very sorry. They slipped away from me. Girls, you can’t just walk up to—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes met Emily’s.
Recognition flickered.
“Emily?” he breathed.
Her stomach tightened.
Daniel Brooks.
For illustrative purposes only
Six months ago, she had been his executive assistant—organized, efficient, trusted with every detail of his chaotic schedule.
Until the day everything collapsed.
A financial discrepancy had appeared in company records. Large enough to cause panic in the accounting department.
Someone had needed to take responsibility.
Emily had been the easiest target.
Daniel had signed the termination papers without hesitation.
He never asked questions.
Never investigated further.
Never even looked at her twice.
Without her salary, Emily had lasted only two months before losing her apartment.
Now here she was.
Barefoot in December.
“Daddy, you know her?” Lily asked.
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
He glanced at his daughters, then back at Emily.
“I… used to work with her.”
Silence settled heavily between them.
The twins exchanged confused looks.
“Why is she sleeping outside?” Emma asked.
Daniel had no answer.
Emily lowered her gaze, shame burning hotter than the freezing air.
But Lily suddenly reached out.
She slipped off one mitten and gently placed it in Emily’s trembling hand.
“You can have this,” she said softly. “You need it more.”
Emily stared at the tiny mitten resting in her palm.
Something fragile cracked open inside her chest.
“Lily—” Daniel started.
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