As we stepped out into the downpour, the cold rain felt like a cleansing baptism, washing away the dirt and despair. The children clung to me—one in my arms, still feverish but alive, and the other two holding onto my hands with a grip that spoke of newfound hope.
The car’s warmth was a stark contrast to the chill outside. As I settled them into the back seat, I caught a glimpse of their eyes—wide, uncertain, but with a glimmer of something that hadn’t been there before—trust. It was then that I realized the magnitude of the decision I’d made. This wasn’t just about saving them for the moment. This was about changing their lives.
“Where are we going?” the girl asked softly, her voice barely audible over the patter of rain on the car roof.
