I’m the maintenance guy everyone in this fancy gated community pretends not to see. Most days I sweep their sidewalks, unclog drains, and sleep in a tiny storage room, listening to whispers and rumors about what a “dangerous” man I am—until one freezing morning, everything changed. My name’s Harold. I’m 56. I’m the maintenance guy at Ridgeview Estates. I also live here—not in a house, of course, but in a storage room behind the maintenance office. Metal door. One thin cot. A hot plate I’m not supposed to have. Mop

I was sixteen years old when I met a homeless pregnant woman at a community outreach center. I had no idea then that she would change my life forever, or that years later, my husband would uncover something that would break my heart and force me to see my son in a completely new way. I started volunteering at the community outreach center when I was sixteen, mostly because that’s what everyone told you to do if you wanted your college applications to look good. You know how it is

Lucas had spent his whole life keeping his head down and his heart guarded. He had always tried to stay invisible at school, especially because his grandmother worked there as a janitor. He didn’t want anyone to judge her—or him—because of it. But on prom night, one choice would force him to decide who really mattered and who truly deserved to be seen. I moved in with Grandma Doris when I was just three days old. My mother, Lina, had died giving birth to me. I’d never known her, but