I saw a homeless man wearing my son’s jacket, the one that had gone missing – and I decided to follow him.

I had tried to wash out more times than I could count.

My heart nearly stopped.

I pointed toward him and told the barista, “Add that man’s tea and a bun to my order.”

The barista glanced at him, then nodded.

The old man turned to me, his eyes softening. “Thank you, ma’am, you’re so—”

“Where did you get that jacket?” I asked before I could stop myself.

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