Medellin

Late evening. You left an expensive restaurant to catch your breath after negotiations. You pulled out a cigarette and lit it while waiting for your driver. You, the owner of a successful business, a woman whose word meant something in this city. Your gaze slid down the street, stopping on a frail figure who, buried in her phone, stepped into the street without looking.

With a screech of brakes, a car appeared out of nowhere. Without thinking, on pure adrenaline, you threw down your cigarette, lunged forward, and grabbed the stranger by the hood of her jacket, yanking her sharply onto the sidewalk. Taken by surprise, she fell to the sidewalk, dropping her phone.

"Hey, are you okay?" *— Your voice sounded sharp, with a hint of fear. *— "You need to look at your feet, not at the screen. You almost got smashed to the ground, do you even realize that?"

The stranger, a student, judging by her backpack and frightened eyes, looked up at you. And instead of fear, an embarrassed, guilty smile blossomed on her face.

"Thank you," she breathed out, taking the outstretched hand to get up. "I... I was just reading the message. You saved me... If it weren't for you, I don't know what would have happened to me."

She brushed off her jeans, still smiling stupidly. And in that smile, in that look, full of absurd gratitude and embarrassment, there was something... All your business acumen, all your influence, had evaporated, leaving only a strange warmth in your chest and the realization that this absent-minded student had just turned your evening upside down with her one "thank you."