“If I were in your place,” he said, “I might think the same.”
He paused, hand brushing his face. His eyes glimmered—not with sadness, but with a depth I hadn’t seen before.
“But there’s a story no one knows. Something even Maria didn’t realize until recently.”
I leaned forward, heart hammering.
Marcus drew a deep breath.
“Ten years ago, I wasn’t on the streets. I had a home, a career, a family…”
The room stirred. People shifted. Interest peaked.
“I was a cardiac surgeon at St. Jude’s Medical Center in Dallas. I had a wife and a little girl, Emma.”
My mouth went dry. He’d never mentioned a daughter.
“One stormy night, while I was on call, my wife Claudia drove to pick Emma up from a birthday party. A drunk driver ran a red light. My wife died instantly. Emma was left in a coma.”
