Julian remained still.
He thought about the back rent . About Lupita’s worn-out shoes . About the registration fee for the next school year . He thought about how easy it would be to put his wallet away and keep walking. No one had seen him.
But he also thought about the nights he spent explaining to his daughter that doing the right thing doesn’t always bring rewards, but it does bring peace of mind . And there was the proof, looking right at him.
He firmly closed his wallet and entered the market.
In the service module, the young woman who received him looked at him with suspicion.
“Are you sure you want to hand it over?” he asked.
“Yes,” Julian replied. “I just want it back in its owner’s hands.”
The girl raised her eyebrows, surprised.
—Almost nobody does that anymore.
“I want my daughter to believe that it’s still worth being honest,” Julian said, before turning away.
That day he worked with a strange feeling in his chest. It wasn’t pride. It was something quieter. Like having fulfilled his own expectations.
