On the street, a woman gave me a child and a suitcase full of money, and sixteen years later I learned that he was the heir of a billionaire.

“Take him, I beg you!” The woman practically shoved a worn leather suitcase in my hands and shoved the boy toward me.
I almost dropped the bag of food; I was carrying treats from the city to our neighbors in the village.

“What? What? I don’t know you…”
“His name is Misha. He’s three and a half.” The woman grabbed my sleeve; her knuckles turned white. “In the suitcase… there’s everything he needs. Don’t leave him, please!”

The boy pressed himself against my leg. He looked up at me with his huge brown eyes, his tousled blond curls, and a scratch on his cheek.

“You can’t be serious!” I tried to move away, but the woman was already pushing us toward the car.