“His name is Mr. Stallone. He’s been missing for over a year. His family reported him lost after an accident during a hiking trip. He never came home.”
I looked at the old man and he stared back, his hands shaking. “I… I have a family?”
The officers gently led Mr. Stallone away. Just before stepping out the door, he turned to me.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
I managed a nod. “I hope you find your way back home.”
And just like that, he was gone.
As they led him to the waiting police car, I stood in the doorway, rain mixing with tears on my face. I watched as they drove away… taking with them a man who had briefly become part of my life.
Months passed, and life moved on. I juggled work, bills, and raising my son. I thought about Mr. Stallone sometimes. Wondered if he had found his family and if he was happy.
Then, one morning, a knock on my door changed everything.
I opened it to find him at my doorstep. But he wasn’t alone.
For a moment, I could only stare.
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