There was a young boy, maybe about four, standing in the road. Lost.

Scared.

And there was a speeding car headed right for him.

Lilah's suitcase hit the pavement. She rushed toward the boy.

The tires let out a piercing screech as they skidded across the pavement.

The car's brakes screamed, and Lilah felt the harsh grind of the road against her skin.

But she had the boy. He was safe in her arms, the car having missed them by mere inches. The scrapes on her didn't matter. She was only worried about the boy.

This little guy, with his chubby cheeks and big, frightened eyes, stared up at her.

Lilah felt a tug at her heart. If her own child were still alive, it would be about the same age as this boy.

How could someone be so careless to let a child wander into traffic like that?

Had she not been there, things might've taken a grim turn.

“Where are your parents, honey?" Lilah inquired softly.

Jerrold Harris, the child, just shook his head.

“Can you see them nearby?" she continued, her voice as gentle as possible. "Or do you know their number?"

His large, round eyes glistened with confusion.

A pang of concern hit Lilah.

Now what?

With the child appearing clueless, and leaving him wasn't an option, she felt stuck.

The taxi driver's honk broke her thoughts. "Ma'am, you coming? I can't wait here forever."

She was due for a crucial meeting. Yet, she couldn't abandon the boy.

She had to think fast. "How about you come with me for now?"

The boy's hesitant eyes scanned her face. Sensing his uncertainty, she offered, "How about we go to the police? They'll help you find your family. Sounds good?"

But in response, Jerrold quickly latched onto Lilah's hand, gazing up at her with tear-filled eyes.

Her heart swelled with compassion. All she wanted was to protect him.