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I Gave My Last $100 to a Shivering Old Woman in a Wheelchair – The Next Morning, She Was Waiting for Me in a Black Luxury Car
A black car (no, a massive black car) was parked right there. Tinted windows. Sleek body. The kind of vehicle you only see in movies where someone’s about to propose or disappear.
But something was off.
And there she was. Only this wasn’t the frail old woman from yesterday.
This version? She looked like money.
She was sitting upright now. Her coat looked warm and expensive. Her gray hair was neatly curled.
She waved like we were old friends. “Sweetheart,” she called out. “Come here.”
I stared, stunned. “You’re okay?”
She smiled. “More than okay. Get in.”
She looked like money.
I froze. “Wait… what’s going on?”
And I don’t know why (maybe I was too tired to argue, maybe I was too stunned), but I got in.
The door closed behind me with an expensive-sounding click. Like even the car knew it was worth more than my entire life.
The interior smelled like leather and old money.
“You’ll know everything in a minute.”
There was a driver up front who didn’t even blink. Like this kind of thing happened every day.
I turned to her. “Are you alright? Did something happen? What… what’s all this? You were… poor.”
She let out a soft laugh. “You passed!”
She folded her hands in her lap. “I’ve been running a little test,” she revealed. “I’ve been sitting at the station daily for hours, watching people. Seeing who stops. Who pretends not to see me. And who walks by without looking.”
“I’ve been running a little test.”
I said nothing.
Because I already knew where this was going, and I hated where it was headed.
