* Can I Eat with you the Homeless girl asked the millionaire his response leave everyone in tears…

Her mouth watered. Just ask, she whispered to herself, just once. She summoned every ounce of courage and walked barefoot across the stone tiles of the patio.

Gasps rippled through the restaurant. Where did she come from? Whispered a woman in pearls. Isn’t security watching the gates? A man muttered.

The head waiter strode forward, his polished shoes clicking angrily. Little girl, you don’t belong here. Leave immediately.

But before he could grab her arm, Layla stepped forward, her big brown eyes locked on Thomas. Sir, she said, her voice trembling. Thomas looked up from his phone, startled.

The little girl’s small, fragile figure seemed wildly out of place against the black tablecloths and glittering chandeliers. Can I eat with you? The waiter froze mid-step. A hush fell over the patio.

Thomas stared at her, his mind spinning. Please, Layla added softly, clutching her torn dress. I’m sorry to ask.

I haven’t eaten in two days. Sir, the waiter said sharply, do you want me to remove her? Thomas didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on Layla’s sunken cheeks, her quivering lips.

Something inside him shifted. Years ago, he’d been a boy like her, hungry, dirty, invisible to the world. He remembered standing outside bakeries, praying someone would spare a crust of bread.

No one had. Sir, the waiter pressed again, shall I call security? No, Thomas said suddenly, his voice louder than intended. Everyone turned to look at him.

Thomas pushed his chair back and stood. Bring another plate, he said firmly. The waiter blinked.