One night, with his back burning and his pride shattered, Marcus decided the streets were safer than that house.<\/p>\n
On the streets, he learned lessons no school ever taught: \nWhich restaurants threw away bread that was still soft. \nWhich subway stations stayed warm one extra hour. \nHow to disappear when police cruisers passed. \nHow to sleep with one eye open.<\/p>\n
But that night was different.<\/p>\n
All day, weather alerts had repeated the same warning: \nTwelve degrees below zero. Wind chill close to minus twenty.<\/strong><\/p>\n
Shelters were full. Sidewalks were empty. Chicago had retreated indoors as if the cold were a living enemy.<\/p>\n
Marcus walked with an old blanket rolled under his arm. It was damp and smelled like mold, but it was better than nothing. His fingers barely moved anymore. His legs felt heavy, numb.<\/p>\n
He needed shelter. He needed warmth. He needed to survive.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s when he turned onto a street he usually avoided.<\/p>\n
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