Chapter 3
The word "Auntie" was barely audible, yet sharp as a knife cutting through the suffocating silence of the supermarket.
The elegant woman recoiled another step, her high heels clattering, nearly causing her to fall. Her impeccable, polished facade crumbled in an instant, revealing utter panic.
"You... you're talking nonsense! I don't know who you are!" she hissed, her voice trembling. Without a second's hesitation, she turned and frantically pushed through the crowd to find a way to escape.
But no one gave way.
The shoppers in the supermarket—those who just minutes before had been deceived by her glamorous appearance—immediately formed a human wall. The quick-witted cashier slammed the security lock button under the counter. The alarm blared, and the supermarket's automatic glass doors slammed shut and locked.
"Let me go! Do you trash know who I am?" The woman screamed, struggling and clinging to the glass door.
Ignoring the chaos at the door, the baker remained kneeling. He held the trembling little girl tightly, shielding her with his broad shoulders. With his other hand, he pulled out his phone and dialed an emergency number he knew by heart but hoped he would never have to call.
The other end answered immediately.
"Boss," the baker's voice choked, tears finally welling up in his eyes. "Found her. Madam was right... She brought the coin to our bakery. Please come here immediately."
Hearing the words "Boss," the woman spun around, her face drained of color. She grabbed a metal basket and lunged at the baker and the child. "Give that brat to me! She's my niece, I have guardianship!"
But three men in the crowd quickly rushed forward, subduing her and pinning her to the floor.
"Guardianship?" The baker stood up, his eyes blazing with anger as he glared at the woman. "You drove the child's mother to desperation to seize the inheritance. You staged a fake accident to wipe them out, but the child's mother used her last ounce of strength to hide her daughter. Did you think the chairman would never find out the truth?"
Just ten minutes later, police sirens ripped through the night, flashing red and blue lights across the parking lot. The supermarket doors opened.
Police entered and subdued the woman, but all eyes were on the man walking behind them. He was an old man in a black suit, leaning on a cane, his face etched with the deep wrinkles of suffering and weariness. He was the founder of this supermarket chain, the man who had offered a reward of his entire fortune for the search of his daughter and granddaughter who had been missing for years.
Seeing the baker, the old man quickened his pace. And when his eyes fell upon the little girl huddled behind the baker, the wooden cane in his hand clattered to the floor.
He knelt down on the cold floor. His old, trembling hands reached out. A small, dirty face, big round eyes, disheveled hair… she looked exactly like his daughter when she was little.
"My dear child…" he choked, hot tears streaming down his face. "I'm so late… I'm sorry."
The little girl looked at the old man. The wariness in her eyes faded as she felt the warmth of his blood relative. She timidly stepped forward, reaching out her tiny, scratched fingers to wipe away his tears. For the first time since that terrible night, she didn't cry, but instead wrapped her arms tightly around her grandfather's neck.
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In the distance, the elegant woman was handcuffed and led away amidst the humiliation and shouts of the crowd. Her crime had finally been brought to light.
The baker stepped back, smiling at the old man and his granddaughter. He gently placed the tattered piece of paper and the last coin into his jacket pocket. His mission was accomplished. The mother's sacrifice had not been in vain. Finally, after a series of dark days, the little girl could truly go home.
