Henry sighed, torn between relief and amazement.
“How did you do it?” he asked softly, watching the boy rock his daughter as if she were his own.
“Sometimes a baby doesn’t need anything complicated. She just wants to feel safe.”
With the plane calm again, Henry invited him to sit nearby. Between them, Nora drifted peacefully to sleep, her eyelashes fluttering with her dreams. In a low voice, Malik confided.
He had grown up in a modest neighborhood in Philadelphia, raised by a courageous mother who worked tirelessly in a small café. Money was always tight, but he had an innate passion for numbers. While other children played outside, he filled worn notebooks with formulas and equations.Continue reading…
