That’s how he ended up at 19 San Felipe, an aging residence with peeling paint and a musty smell. His plan was simple: hand over a check, take a quick photo for corporate charity records, and leave.
But the moment he stepped inside, something shifted.
The home was bleak — cracked walls, broken armchairs, elderly residents staring blankly at flickering televisions. And then, near a dirty window, he saw her.
A frail woman with tangled white hair sat slumped in a wheelchair, staring out as if lost somewhere deep inside her own mind. There was nothing extraordinary about her appearance, yet something about her face made his chest tighten.
He moved closer.
When the woman lifted her gaze, her cloudy eyes sparked with a strange, faint recognition. Leonardo — normally steady and composed — felt his hands tremble. The director informed him that her name was Carmen, a long-term resident with no registered relatives and very limited recollection of her past.
