The spy had found the interaction entertaining, a break from the usual monotony of his surveillance. He had chuckled to himself as the receptionist gently informed David about the exorbitant room rates, stifling a laugh as he watched the boy’s crestfallen expression.

But his amusement had quickly turned into curiosity when the receptionist ran out after David and, in an unexpected twist, escorted him back into the hotel—not just to any part of the hotel, but into the luxury suites of the top floor.

Behind the counter, Mike, the burly owner of the pub, looked up from the glass he was polishing. His thick eyebrows shot up in surprise as he registered David’s presence.

“David?” he asked, setting the glass down and striding over to him. “I wasn’t expecting you here today. You usually come on Tuesdays, don’t you?”

David returned Mike’s friendly greeting with a smile. 

“Hi, Mike,” he replied, settling comfortably onto a bar stool. “Actually, I’m here for a different reason today.”

Mike raised an eyebrow, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

“Oh, really? What brings you here, then?”

David took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before responding. 

“Well, Mike, things have changed for me,” he began, trying to control his excitement. “I’ve been given an opportunity to start fresh. I’ve moved out from Shiela’s house.”

He looked around the store, hoping to catch a glimpse of Melanie, but she was nowhere in sight. His heart sank a little, but he reminded himself to be patient. He had arrived just before the usual shift change, so it was still possible that Melanie might show up at any moment. He decided to wait, picking up a basket and strolling through the aisles.

Lost in his thoughts, David didn’t notice the convenience store manager, Kim, grinning at him from behind the counter. It was only when she let out a chuckle that he snapped out of his musings. He turned towards the sound, his eyes meeting Kim’s amused gaze.

“Well, well, David,” she quipped. “I’m glad you’re actually here to buy something for a change, rather than just to hang out with Melanie.”

However, there was still one significant roadblock in his path: he lacked a formal education. All the knowledge and skills he possessed hadn’t come through conventional schooling. They were self-taught, gained through careful observation and hands-on experience over the years. This lack of formal qualifications meant that securing a decent-paying job would not be an easy task.

David recalled his time at the pub, where he used to wash dishes. The owner, Mike, had always been kind to him, treating him with a respect that he didn’t often experience. Over time, he had grown familiar with the bartenders who, between serving customers and sharing stories, had taught him how to make most of the drinks on the menu.

Perhaps he could approach Mike and ask for a chance to work as a bartender. He knew the job wouldn’t be easy, but he already learned many of the required skills. More importantly, he was eager to learn and improve and was not afraid of hard work.

A pang of frustration came over Melanie as she was awakened by the shrill complaints of her mother, Shiela. It hadn’t even been a day since David left. Yet, somehow, Shiela had already plunged the house into a state of chaos with her loud and dramatic monologues.

The house echoed with Shiela’s voice, her sharp words slapping the walls, depriving Melanie of the sleep she desperately needed. The thuds and thumps of furniture being kicked were easy enough to ignore, but the shattering cups and plates were a different story. Despite her efforts to tune out the noise, Melanie couldn’t fall asleep. By afternoon, she had barely managed to snatch a few moments of rest, her mind and body drained of energy.

Even so, the prospect of another night shift at Brook’s Convenience Store was, ironically, a relief. Working at the store meant getting away from the turmoil at home, her mother’s relentless tirades, and the emptiness that David’s absence had left behind. The convenience store, with its pleasant customers and comforting hum of refrigerators, was a sanctuary amidst the storm that her life had become.

David sank into the cozy seating area by the window, his mind a whirlwind of incredulity. The luxury suite, the free meals, the new phone—it was all too much, too sudden. It was almost as if he had stepped into a dream that was too good to be true.

And then there was Mr. Atlas, the hotel manager. The man was a mystery, an enigma wrapped in a professional demeanor. Despite his initial suspicion, David couldn’t shake off the feeling that Mr. Atlas was genuine. His concern seemed real. There was a warmth in his gaze, a sincerity in his words that spoke of a man who cared about David’s well-being.

But why? Why would a hotel manager go out of his way to help a stranger? Why would he offer a luxury suite for free, provide meals, and even gift a new phone?