Billionaire's Regret
It came from an alley behind the closed bakery, low voices and occasional bursts of warmth carrying clearly through the still night air and Zane found himself drawn toward the sound without fully deciding to move, every fiber of his being starving for the simple, beautiful sound of people taking comfort in one another.
He stopped at the mouth of the alley and peered.
Four teenagers sat gathered around an overturned crate, older than him, maybe fifteen or sixteen, their faces lit orange by the soft, welcoming glow of a small fire burning in a metal bucket between them. Zane stood at the edge of the shadows watching, his breath catching in his throat, careful not to be seen while taking in the