flash

Chapter 10 - The Last DeliveryThe rain had stopped, leaving the Chicago streets washed clean and glistening under the morning sun.

A few miles away on the bustling South Side, a young man in a simple, clean red delivery jacket pulled his scooter up to the curb outside a modest brick apartment building. He locked the handlebars, hoisted a heavy canvas delivery bag over his shoulder, and walked briskly up the steps.

He didn't wear an expensive Italian suit. He didn't carry a portfolio of stolen patents, and he didn't dream of dazzling rooms filled with billionaires who loved him for his reflection.

Ethan Cole rang the doorbell of a second-floor apartment, holding a paper bag filled with fresh groceries and warm soup for an elderly neighbor who had been under the weather.

The door swung open, and an elderly woman smiled warmly as she saw him standing there.

"You're right on time, Ethan," she said.

Ethan smiled back—a real, grounded, exhausted smile born of honest work and hard-earned redemption.

May you like

"Always am," Ethan said softly.

He handed her the bag, turned around, and walked back down the steps into the bright, open morning air, ready for whatever the day had to deliver.

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