When Kai was nine, Walter became sick. His cough worsened until breathing itself seemed like a punishment.
He was taken to a public hospital, and Kai was left alone more often than ever, begging near intersections, carrying cardboard signs that trembled in his hands.
One afternoon, weak with hunger, Kai overheard people talking about a wedding.
Not just any wedding, but one so large and extravagant that traffic had been redirected near a historic estate on the north side of the city. There would be food, people said. Endless food.
With his stomach burning and his lips dry, Kai followed the sound of music until he reached the iron gates.
Inside, white tents stretched across manicured lawns, tables heavy with food, glasses sparkling in the sunlight.
He stood at the edge, unsure, small and invisible.
A kitchen worker noticed him and hesitated before pressing a warm plate into his hands. “Sit behind the catering tent and eat fast,” she whispered. “Do not let security see you.”
Kai thanked her with all the seriousness a child could muster and ate slowly, carefully, as if afraid the food might vanish if he rushed.
He watched the celebration from afar, the laughter, the suits, the dresses that shimmered like something from another life.
He wondered quietly if his mother lived like this, or if she was still somewhere cold and hungry like him.
Then the music changed. A hush fell across the crowd as the ceremony began. Guests stood. Heads turned toward the stone staircase draped in flowers.
The bride appeared. She was radiant, wrapped in white, her dark hair falling softly against her shoulders, her smile calm and composed. The guests sighed in admiration.
Kai stopped breathing. It was not her beauty that rooted him in place. It was the bracelet on her wrist. A red string. Worn. Frayed. Knotted in the same uneven way.
His hands shook. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure others could hear it. He stepped forward, then another step, then another, moving as if pulled by something stronger than fear.
“Maam,” he said, his voice cracking, “that bracelet you are wearing. Where did you get it?”
The room fell silent. The music continued, but no one seemed to notice.
The bride looked down at her wrist. Slowly, she raised her eyes to the boy standing before her.
Their gazes locked.
She gasped.
She sank to her knees, her dress pooling on the ground, her breath coming apart. “What is your name?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Kai,” he whispered. “My name is Kai.”
The microphone slipped from the officiant’s hand and struck the floor. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
The groom stepped forward, confusion etched across his face. “What is happening?” he asked quietly.
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