The Janitor Who Healed the Billionaire’s Daughters The executive daycare on the 28th floor was supposed to be the safest, most luxurious childcare center in the city — the kind of place where powerful parents could drop off their kids, sign a few papers, and rush off to run their companies. But today, instead of laughter or music, the sound echoing through the glass doors was pure anger. “Girls, I’m done! You hear me? I’m done!” The shout bounced off the shiny white walls. Thomas Fischer stopped pushing his mop.

The Pretend Boyfriend My name’s Mason, and I live in a small Oregon town where the nights always smell like rain on pine bark, and the crickets begin their concert the moment the sun dips below the hills. I’ve never left this place. I still live in my grandfather’s creaky white house—the roof a little uneven, the porch a little crooked, but it’s home. I fix bikes for a living at a small repair shop called Gear & Grind, tucked between a thrift store and a laundromat. My days are

Harry was proud of his family. Every time he saw his twin boys laugh, his heart filled with joy. He thought he had everything—a loving wife, two amazing sons, and a peaceful home. But one doctor’s appointment would destroy that illusion forever. Harry sat in the pediatrician’s office, watching his sons giggle over a silly video. Josh, the smaller twin, was recovering from anemia, while Andrew, his older brother by five minutes, teased him playfully. When Dr. Dennison entered, Harry quickly stood up. “Dr. Dennison,” he greeted, shaking the man’s