“Please mister, buy this painting so we can buy bread,” three dirty triplets begged. The billionaire mafia boss stared at the canvas, his heart stopping. The woman painted on it was the wife he mourned for years. With shaking hands, he pulled out a black card and whispered, “Take me to her.”

me. It wasn’t the fear of a ghost; it was the absolute horror of losing my only remaining tether to salvation.

The shelter door flew open. Sofia, Lucia, and Mila poured out into the storm, screaming for their mother. I immediately dropped to my knees on the flooded sidewalk, holding Elena tightly, making myself as small as possible so I wouldn’t loom continue reading …