One chilly morning, as Benjamin was reading a tattered math book, he heard soft footsteps approaching. It was Emily, the daughter of the billionaire who owned half the city. She had wandered away from her nanny during their morning walk, drawn to the curiosity of the old building and the faint sound of someone talking.

Emily was only six, curious and open-minded, and when she saw Benjamin, her eyes widened not with fear, but with fascination. She stepped closer, noticing the numbers scribbled in the dirt and the old book clutched in Benjamin’s hands.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked, her voice tinged with the innocence of youth.