[I'm free this weekend. Saturday or Sunday would work. Thank you so, so much!]
Joseph read her replies, easily imagining her expression. The repeated thanks made her excitement palpable. Perhaps this bit of good news could help wash away some of her pain.
[You're welcome. See if you have time today to bring the boy to meet my parents.]
Seeing his message, Vivica immediately replied: [I do! I’ll come to the hospital at noon and bring Chaim to visit them.]
How could she possibly refuse such a small request after he had done so much for her? In this moment of crisis, Joseph felt like a saving grace, a sign that her luck was finally turning.
In the back seat of the car, Joseph stared at his phone screen, a faint smile playing on his usually stoic face.
It was as if a voice in his head was mocking him—“who was it that was just lecturing his subordinate about not interfering in other people’s destinies?” Yet here he was, completely changing the fate of a mother and son.
Joseph reasoned with himself that he hadn't broken his principles. He was only “meddling” because of his special connection to the boy. It had absolutely nothing to do with feeling sorry for the woman.
...
The video of the rooftop suicide threat spread quickly through local social media circles. Not only had Roderic seen it, but colleagues at the firm had as well, and they whispered about Vivica behind her back. Fortunately, decent people still outnumbered the rest. Most sympathized with Vivica and condemned her parents for their blatant favoritism.
Quintina also saw the news and called, worried about her.
But Vivica had already bounced back. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m actually in a great mood today.”
Quintina was taken aback. “A great mood? Have your brain-dead parents finally driven you insane?”
“No, I was really upset this morning, but I got some good news today.”

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