Chapter 3
Đây là phiên bản được chuyển thể theo văn phong tiểu thuyết dành cho độc giả Mỹ, giữ nguyên cảm xúc nhưng tự nhiên hơn trong tiếng Anh và bối cảnh phương Tây:
Ethan sat alone at the edge of that picture-perfect afternoon, watching every moment unfold without making a sound.
No one noticed him.
To the families passing by, he was just another forgotten child sitting near the school entrance—small, silent, easy to overlook.
But to Ethan, every hug felt like a story he would never get to live.
His eyes lingered on the young mother holding her son close, gently rubbing his back while the boy talked excitedly about his day. She laughed at something he said, kissed his forehead, and together they walked toward their car as though the rest of the world no longer existed.
Something inside Ethan broke.
He couldn't bear to watch anymore.
Slowly, he turned his face away.
The tears he'd fought so hard to hold back finally escaped, rolling silently down his dirt-smudged cheeks.
He pressed his lips together, hoping to stop the sob rising in his throat.
It didn't work.
His small shoulders trembled as quiet cries escaped into the cool evening air.
At eight years old, he should have been running into someone's arms after school.
He should have been complaining about homework, showing off a drawing from art class, or asking what was for dinner.
Instead...
He sat alone beneath the shadow of the iron fence with nothing waiting for him except another cold night.
He wasn't crying because he wanted expensive toys.
Or a bigger house.
Or the newest video game everyone else seemed to own.
He cried for things most children never had to think about.
A backpack that belonged to him.
A place to call home.
Someone waiting at the school gate.
May you like
Someone who would smile the moment they saw him...
...and wrap him in a hug that said, You're home.
