When the plane touched down in Zurich, Henry turned to him before he stepped into the aisle.
“Mason, what do you want to study?” he asked.
Mason shrugged lightly. “I don’t know yet, sir. I’m saving up to apply for a scholarship. I think… I think I want to be a pediatrician.”
Henry looked at the boy, then at the tiny sleeping girl in his arms.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a gleaming gold card.
“Contact me when you get home,” he said. “We’ll make sure you get that scholarship.”
Mason blinked, stunned. Words failed him.
