I am Adam Turner, and as a single father raising my eight-year-old daughter Madison, life wasn’t exactly easy—yet we always found a way to get through. I worked full-time at a local family restaurant, doing whatever shifts they gave me, trying my best to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads.
That night, the rain was coming down in sheets—one of those storms where the sky looked like it was ripping open. I was driving Madison home from her after-school program as I spotted an elderly man on the side of the road, walking slowly with a cane, his suit completely soaked.
I pulled over right away.
“Sir, do you need any help?” I called out through the open window.
The old man turned toward me, squinting through the rain.
“M–my car broke down,” he said, nodding toward a black sedan with steam billowing from under the hood. “And my phone’s dead.”
