Yet, the anticipated sound of paper being disturbed never came. Instead, Malcolm felt a light touch on his shoulder. Startled, he almost flinched, but his years of practiced self-control held him still.

“Sir?” Milo’s voice was a mere whisper, filled with an unexpected blend of concern and respect. “Sir, are you okay?”

Malcolm remained motionless, and Milo’s hand withdrew. The child seemed to hesitate, wrestling with some inner conflict. Malcolm listened keenly, his curiosity piqued.

“Mother says we shouldn’t touch other people’s things,” Milo continued, as if reasoning with himself. “But… but if you’re not well, maybe I should get help?”

Malcolm’s heart softened, an uncomfortable yet familiar sensation. Despite his cynicism, the boy’s genuine worry was disarming. Milo lingered near the table, his presence a quiet assertion of integrity unfathomable for someone so young.

Then, to Malcolm’s astonishment, he heard Milo’s small voice again, this time directed to the space around him. “Please, if you’re listening, make Mr. Greyford better. I don’t want Mother to lose her job.”

The sincerity of Milo’s plea sent an unexpected warmth spreading through Malcolm’s chest. He realized that the test had not only been about proving human greed but had also inadvertently revealed the profound capacity for innocence and kindness.

After a few more silent moments, Malcolm decided it was time to end his ruse. He shifted slightly, allowing his eyes to flutter open, feigning the confusion of one waking from slumber.

Milo stepped back quickly, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and relief. “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Malcolm smiled gently, a rare expression that felt almost foreign. “It’s quite alright, young man,” he said, his voice gruff yet softened by newfound respect. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Brianna returned shortly, her eyes flicking nervously between her son and her employer. Malcolm straightened, clearing his throat. “You have a remarkable son, Brianna. He’s a fine young man.”

Brianna’s relief was palpable, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Greyford.”

As they left the room, Malcolm remained in his chair, contemplating the unexpected outcome of his test. He realized that trust, like wealth, could be built upon, nurtured, and perhaps, even restored. For the first time in years, Malcolm Greyford felt a flicker of hope for humanity—a hope sparked by the innocence and integrity of a child.