Cold rain soaked the streets of Mexico City that November afternoon as Sebastián Rojas stood beneath a flickering streetlamp, water streaming down his face — indistinguishable from his tears. At forty-three, Sebastián appeared to embody success. He was the founder and CEO of NovaPay Group, dressed in a tailored Italian suit, a luxury watch gleaming at his wrist. From the outside, his life looked flawless.

But in that moment, he wasn’t a corporate titan.
He was a broken father.

Exactly one year had passed since his ex-wife vanished to Spain with their son, Lucas, without warning or consent. Three hundred and sixty-five days of unanswered calls, canceled video chats, and legal battles that led nowhere. A critical meeting with foreign investors had already begun downtown — but none of it mattered. No amount of wealth could shield him from the emptiness of absence.A small voice pierced the fog of his grief.

“Mister… are you crying because you’re hungry too?”

Sebastián looked down.

A little girl stood before him, no older than seven. Her dark eyes were wide and solemn, her face smudged with dirt but strikingly beautiful. Uneven braids framed her cheeks, and an oversized sweater hung off her small shoulders. She extended a half-eaten roll wrapped in a crumpled napkin.

“You can have this,” she said seriously. “I know how it feels when your stomach hurts from not eating.”

The shame hit Sebastián like a blow. He — mourning his pain in luxury — being offered food by a child who had nothing.No,” he said softly, wiping his face. “I’m not hungry. I’m crying because I miss my son. I haven’t seen him in a year.”

The girl nodded as if she understood perfectly.

“I miss my mom,” she whispered. “I haven’t seen her in a year either. She ate some candy someone gave her, then she started acting strange. Doctors took her away. She never came back.”

Two losses. The same date. An invisible thread connected them.

Her name was Alma.

She spoke calmly — too calmly — about escaping an abusive orphanage, about sleeping wherever there were no dangerous men, about surviving day to day. Something inside Sebastián shifted. He couldn’t leave her there.

Ignoring the stares of passersby and later his own employees, Sebastián brought the girl with him into the glass tower of NovaPay. As the revolving doors closed behind them, he had no idea he’d just stepped into a truth that would destroy everything he thought he knew — exposing a betrayal crafted by the one person he trusted most.

Inside his office, his assistant Rosa, visibly shaken, wrapped Alma in a blanket and handed her a mug of hot chocolate. The girl watched the room in amazement.

The peace shattered when the door flew open.

Elena Rojas, Sebastián’s mother and chairwoman of the board, entered like a blade. Elegant. Cold. Imposing.

“What is this nonsense?” she snapped, her gaze landing on Alma with disdain. “The investors are waiting, and you’re playing savior to a street child. Call security. Remove her.”