Chapter 3: The Price of Doing Right
The bus ride to uptown took fifty-three minutes.
For Nico, it felt like an entire night.
He sat beside Mrs. Flores near the back, keeping his shoeshine bag wedged between his knees. Every time the bus hit a pothole, he instinctively reached down to make sure the wallet was still there.
Outside, the city changed.
The crowded sidewalks and corner stores gradually gave way to wide streets, landscaped medians, and buildings with doormen standing beneath polished awnings.
Nico had never seen so many expensive cars in one place.
Mrs. Flores followed his gaze.
“Don't stare too much,” she whispered.
“People around here can be strange about it.””
“Do they know we're poor?””
“Some do. Some don't care. Some pretend not to notice.””
Nico considered that.
“Which ones are the worst?””
She gave a tired laugh.
“The ones who think money makes them better than everyone else.””
The bus stopped outside a tall glass building bearing the words REYES GLOBAL in silver lettering.
Nico stepped onto the sidewalk and looked up.
The building rose so high that he had to tilt his head back to see its top.
“This is where he works?”” he asked.
“Looks like it.””
A uniformed security guard stood near the revolving doors.
Nico approached him.
“Excuse me, sir. I'm looking for Mr. Armando Reyes.””
The guard looked down at the boy's worn shirt and dusty shoes.
“Do you have an appointment?””
“No, sir. But I have something that belongs to him.””
“Then leave it with reception.””
“I need to give it to him myself.””
The guard folded his arms.
“Listen, kid. Mr. Reyes doesn't take walk-ins. You can't just show up here.””
“But it's important.””
“So is my job. Go on.””
Nico's face burned.
Mrs. Flores stepped forward.
“We're not trying to cause trouble. The boy found something valuable that belongs to Mr. Reyes, and we want to return it.””
The guard looked at her grocery bags.
“Then hand it over.””
Nico tightened his grip on the strap of his bag.
“I want to see him.””
The guard gave a humorless laugh.
“You and everyone else.””
He turned away.
Nico stood frozen near the entrance.
He had expected the man to be grateful. He had imagined returning the wallet, receiving a handshake, and going home with the quiet satisfaction of having done the right thing.
Instead, he couldn't even get through the door.
Mrs. Flores touched his shoulder.
“Let's try reception.””
Inside, the lobby smelled of polished stone and fresh flowers. A chandelier hung above the reception desk, scattering light across the marble floor.
A woman with a headset looked up as they approached.
“Good evening. How may I help you?””
“My name is Nico Alvarez,” the boy said.
“I need to see Mr. Armando Reyes.””
“Do you have an appointment?””
“No, ma'am. But I found his wallet.””
The receptionist blinked.
“His wallet?””
Nico carefully placed it on the counter.
She opened the cover, checked the identification, and immediately stood up.
“Please wait here.””
She disappeared through a side door.
Nico stared at the marble floor.
“Do you think he'll be angry?”” he whispered.
Mrs. Flores shook her head.
“He shouldn't be.””
“But what if he thinks I stole it?””
“You came all this way to return it. Anyone with sense would understand.””
A few minutes later, a tall man in a charcoal suit emerged from the elevator.
His hair was silver at the temples, and his expression was serious.
Nico recognized him immediately.
“Mr. Reyes!””
Armando stopped.
For one long second, neither spoke.
Then Armando looked at the wallet in the receptionist's hands.
“You found it.””
Nico nodded.
“Yes, sir.””
“Where?””
“On the sidewalk. After you left.””
Armando studied the boy's face.
“And you brought it here?””
“Yes, sir.””
“Why?””
The question seemed to surprise Nico.
“Because it's yours.””
Armando looked at him for another moment.
Then he extended his hand.
“Thank you, Nico.””
The boy shook it carefully.
“I'm glad I found you.””
Armando opened the wallet.
Every bill was still there.
The identification cards were untouched. The folded withdrawal slip remained in place. Even the small photograph of Armando's late wife, Elena, was exactly where he had left it.
He looked at the boy again.
“You know how much money was inside?””
Nico swallowed.
“Yes, sir.””
“How much?””
“Ten thousand dollars.””
“And you still returned it?””
Nico's eyes dropped to the floor.
“Yes, sir.””
Armando felt something tighten in his chest.
“Was it difficult?””
Nico hesitated.
“My mother needs medicine.””
The lobby seemed to grow quieter.
Armando lowered the wallet.
“What kind of medicine?””
“She has a serious illness. The doctor gave her a prescription, but we don't have enough money to buy it.””
“How much does it cost?””
“Two hundred and eighty dollars.””
“And you found ten thousand dollars.””
Nico nodded.
Armando waited.
“Did you think about keeping it?””
The boy's eyes filled with tears.
“Yes, sir.””
The honest answer struck harder than any denial could have.
Armando crouched until they were at eye level.
“Tell me why you didn't.””
Nico twisted the strap of his shoeshine bag between his fingers.
“My mother says that if we have nothing else, we still have to be honest. She says being poor isn't an excuse to hurt someone.””
He took a shaky breath.
“I wanted to buy her medicine. I wanted to pay our rent. I wanted to buy food without asking the shopkeeper to let us pay later.””
Armando felt his throat tighten.
“But the money wasn't mine,” Nico continued.
“And if I kept it, Mama would know. Even if I didn't tell her.””
He looked up.
“I don't want her to be disappointed in me.””
For several seconds, Armando couldn't speak.
He had expected the boy to return the wallet, perhaps because he feared being caught or because he believed there might be a reward.
He had not expected him to describe the cost of doing the right thing so plainly.
Then Armando noticed Nico's hands.
They were small, with faint black marks beneath the fingernails from shoe polish. One knuckle was scraped, and a bandage covered a cut on his thumb.
“How long have you been working today?”” Armando asked.
“Since seven this morning.””
“And you came all the way here afterward?””
“Yes, sir.””
“Have you eaten?””
Nico looked embarrassed.
“A little.””
“What does that mean?””
“I had half a sandwich.””
Armando turned toward his assistant, who had just stepped out of the elevator.
“David, cancel my next meeting for thirty minutes.””
David glanced at his watch.
“Sir, the board members are already waiting.””
“Then tell them to wait.””
Armando turned back to Nico.
“There's a café across the street. Would you and Mrs. Flores like something to eat?””
Mrs. Flores immediately shook her head.
“We appreciate the offer, but we don't want to impose.””
“You aren't imposing,” Armando said.
“Please.””
Nico looked at Mrs. Flores.
She nodded.
“All right. Thank you.””
They crossed the street together and entered a small café where the tables were made of dark wood and the windows overlooked the busy avenue.
Armando ordered soup, sandwiches, and hot chocolate for Nico.
When the food arrived, the boy stared at the plate as if he had forgotten what it felt like to sit down and eat without worrying about the cost.
“You can eat,” Armando told him.
Nico took a small bite.
Then another.
Soon he was eating quickly, trying to hide how hungry he was.
Armando looked away to give him privacy.
After a while, Nico put down his sandwich.
“Mr. Reyes?””
“Yes?””
“Are you angry with me?””
Armando frowned.
“Angry? Why would I be angry?””
“Because I took so long to bring it back.””
Armando's expression changed.
“Did someone stop you?””
“The security guard wouldn't let me in at first.””
“I see.””
“He said I couldn't come here without an appointment.””
Armando's jaw tightened.
“I'll speak to him.””
“Please don't get him in trouble,” Nico said quickly.
“He was just doing his job.””
Armando studied him.
Even now, after being turned away and humiliated, the boy was worried about what might happen to someone else.
“Your mother has taught you well,” he said.
Nico smiled faintly.
“She tries.””
Armando reached into his jacket and took out his wallet.
He removed a thick envelope from the inside pocket and placed it on the table.
Nico immediately stiffened.
“What's that?””
“Something to help your mother.””
Nico looked at the envelope but didn't touch it.
“How much is it?””
“Five thousand dollars.””
The boy's eyes widened.
“No, sir.””
Armando blinked.
“No?””
“I can't take that.””
“Why not?””
“Because I didn't do anything to earn it.””
“You returned ten thousand dollars that didn't belong to you. Surely that deserves a reward.””
Nico shook his head.
“I didn't return it because I wanted a reward.””
Armando felt admiration and frustration rise together.
“I know that. But your mother needs treatment. Let me help.””
Nico stared at the envelope.
He wanted to take it.
The desire was so strong that his fingers trembled beneath the table.
Five thousand dollars could change everything.
He could buy his mother's medicine, pay the landlord, and fill the kitchen cupboards. He could even return to school instead of spending every day on the sidewalk.
But the money felt like another test.
He remembered his mother's words.
Honesty is the one thing nobody can take from you.
He pushed the envelope back.
“If you want to help my mother, could you pay the hospital directly? Or help us find a doctor who can treat her? I don't want money just because you feel sorry for me.””
Armando stared at him.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
“All right, Nico. We'll do it your way.””
The boy released a breath he seemed to have been holding for hours.
“Thank you, sir.””
Armando took out his phone.
“I'll have my assistant contact the hospital tomorrow morning. We'll find out exactly what your mother needs.””
Nico's face lit up.
“Really?””
“Really.””
For the first time that evening, he looked like an ordinary ten-year-old.
He grinned, revealing a small gap between his front teeth.
“Thank you! Mama will be so happy.””
Armando felt a warmth he hadn't experienced in years.
He had expected to discover whether Nico was honest.
Instead, the boy had reminded him that dignity could survive poverty, and that kindness did not have to come with a price tag.
But as Armando prepared to take Nico and Mrs. Flores home, his phone vibrated.
A message from David appeared on the screen.
*Sir, the man who followed the boy has been identified. He works for Teresa.*
Armando's smile disappeared.
A second message arrived.
*There's more. Teresa has been asking questions about Nico's mother and her medical bills.*
Armando looked across the table at the boy, who was carefully wiping chocolate from his upper lip with a napkin.
He had thought the test was over.
He had been wrong.
May you like
Because while Nico had been struggling to decide what kind of person he wanted to be, someone else had been making plans that could destroy his family.
And that someone was already inside Armando's own home.
