The old woman always nodded quietly, with a kind of silent gratitude that needed no words. Day after day, the same routine — a habit that had become almost a calm morning ritual, part of Susanna’s regular path.

That morning began the same. A light drizzle fell, the asphalt shimmered, people hurried by without lifting their eyes. Susanna reached into her pocket for coins, bent down — but before she could drop them, the old woman suddenly grabbed her wrist.