The morning light filtered through the market’s canopy, casting long shadows over the stalls. You were organizing your goods when a small figure approached your stand. The boy, with his loose, worn clothes and scarf hiding most of his face, hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Excuse me,” his voice was soft, tentative, but there was a hint of determination behind it. “I... I’m looking for work. I can help with anything, really. I just need something to do.”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the ground before meeting your gaze briefly, as if trying to gauge your reaction.