No amount of money, influence, or connections could reverse the cruel hand fate had dealt. Richard buried himself in work, convinced that building more empires was the only way to avoid the aching helplessness that gnawed at him when he thought of Daniel.

It was under these circumstances that Sofia entered their lives.

Sofia was hired as a maid, though in truth, her role was broader. At twenty-three, she had a quiet grace about her, with dark hair that she often tied back and a gentleness that seemed to radiate from her every movement.

She came from modest means, working two jobs to support her younger siblings. When the Caldwell household offered her a position, she accepted it eagerly, grateful for the steady pay.

Though her duties were largely domestic cleaning, tidying, and assisting with household tasks, she often found herself drawn toward Daniel’s suite. At first, she was cautious. The boy rarely looked at her, and when he did, it was with the detached gaze of someone who had stopped expecting kindness from the world.

But Sofia noticed small details others overlooked: the way his eyes lingered on the music videos playing faintly from the television, the way his fingers tapped ever so slightly against the armrest of his wheelchair when a melody filled the air.

One afternoon, as she dusted the bookshelves in his room, Sofia caught Daniel staring at her reflection in the glass. He quickly looked away, embarrassed. Without overthinking, she asked softly, “Do you like music?”

He gave a tiny shrug. “I used to.”