It’s an unspoken rule that people like me make decisions far from the consequences, and the ones struggling are rarely more than a line item or an inconvenience.
Weeks passed since that morning.
I tried to forget, but three moments stand out: the first time I saw her again, in the dim alleyway behind a deli—still with the dog.
The afternoon when my son’s school announced a fundraising event focused on homelessness, and I stayed silent during the board’s discussion.
And finally, the evening I hesitated to answer my assistant’s call about a proposal to partner with a shelter, pushing it into the ignored pile on my desk.
Now, the company’s quarterly board meeting is hours away.
There’s a proposal on the agenda—something about increasing funding for local support programs—that I’ve stalled for weeks.
I know the investors expect my approval, but I’m dreading the conversation.
This isn’t just about business anymore.
There’s a growing weight pressing down on me, a reckoning quietly building that I’m not ready to face.
