The morning came slowly, the faint glow of the sunrise spilling over the city's rooftops. Renzo blinked awake, his body sore from the hard cement floor, but his heart still carried the small spark of hope from the night before.
Julia stretched beside him, rubbing her eyes. "Renzo… are you ready? Today's the day," she said, her voice still groggy but determined.
Renzo sat up and nodded. Around them, the other children began to stir, brushing dust off their thin clothes and gathering the empty cans they had hidden under the cardboard.
"Let's split into two groups," Renzo suggested. "We'll cover more streets that way. Julia and I can take the main road, while the others check the alleys."
The children agreed. Despite their hunger and tiredness, there was a new kind of energy in their faces—like a fragile flame refusing to be put out.
They walked the streets barefoot, their eyes sharp for anything that could be sold. The stench of trash was overwhelming, but they pressed on.
Julia spotted an empty bottle first. "Look, Renzo!" she exclaimed, carefully placing it inside a small sack she had picked up from a garbage pile.
Renzo found crumpled newspapers in a nearby bin and stuffed them into the sack. With every piece they collected, the children felt as if they were taking back a part of themselves stolen by hunger and cruelty.
Hours passed. Their small sacks grew heavier, though their bodies grew weaker. The hot sun pressed down mercilessly, but the thought of earning even a few coins kept them moving.
By afternoon, they reached a junk shop tucked away on a narrow street. The owner, a middle-aged man with a rough but not unfriendly face, eyed them with suspicion as they entered.
"What do you kids want?" he asked gruffly.
Renzo stepped forward, holding out the sack. "Sir, we collected bottles and newspapers. Can we sell them here?"
The man raised an eyebrow, then took the sack and weighed it. "Hmm… not much, but I'll give you this," he said, dropping a few coins into Renzo's hand.
Julia's eyes widened. It wasn't a fortune, but it was more than what they usually got from begging.
"Thank you, sir!" Renzo said, bowing slightly. The man grunted, clearly not used to such gratitude.
That evening, the group returned to their spot under the lamppost with bread and a few bananas bought from a street vendor. It wasn't much, but it was enough to fill their empty stomachs.
The children laughed for the first time in a long while, sharing food and stories as the night embraced them. Julia, her face glowing under the dim light, looked at Renzo.
"You see? Your plan worked. We survived today because of you," she whispered.
Renzo shook his head, though a shy smile formed on his lips. "We survived because we worked together. If we keep this up… maybe tomorrow will be better."
Julia leaned closer, her eyes soft. "You're different, Renzo. You don't just think of yourself—you think of us too. That's why… I believe in you." She stared into his eyes and smiled.
Renzo's heart pounded. He quickly looked away, his cheeks burning.
The night went on, but in the middle of the harsh streets, a fragile family was forming. Renzo had found not just survival, but people who believed in him.
And though Michael and Ryan searched tirelessly through the city, Renzo's journey was only beginning—one that would test his courage, loyalty, and the hope he had planted on that cold night.
The group of children was still happily chatting under the lamppost. Their laughter and simple sharing of bread sounded like music in the cold night.
"If we can buy sardines tomorrow, we'll all share," Renzo said with a smile.
"It should be corned beef!" Julia interrupted, laughing loudly, followed by the rest.
But their laughter suddenly stopped when Renzo noticed a small multicab slowing down and stopping across the street. Inside, a woman—around forty, perhaps—was seated by the window.
She looked in their direction. At first, it seemed nothing unusual, but when her eyes fell on Julia's face under the lamppost, they widened.
"My God…" she whispered, almost unbelieving. "Julia?"
She leaned back in her seat, straining to see the girl again. The resemblance—the eyes, the smile, even her movements.
The child they had long been searching for. She tried to look again, but with the dim lamplight and the distance, she wasn't certain.
Meanwhile, Julia noticed the gaze from the multicab.
She suddenly felt uneasy, though she didn't know why. It was as if something tugged at her heart—a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time.
"Renzo… why are they staring here?" she asked softly, trying to hide her nervousness.
Renzo stood up, the other kids following.
He reached out his hand to Julia, helping her up, and together they left the place.
The multicab drove away and disappeared into the night.
Inside, the woman turned her back, tears welling in her eyes.
"If that was her… if that was really Julia…" she whispered to herself, clutching her chest. "I can't be mistaken."
****
They woke up early to the chill of dawn. The cardboard they slept on was soaked with dew, and their clothes clung with the dust and scent of the streets.
"Renzo, wake up. If we're early, we might gather more," Julia whispered, gently tapping his shoulder.
Carrying their sacks and a small tin can, they began walking through the narrow alleys.
Some of their companions immediately peeked into trash bins, while Renzo and Julia worked together to lift bottles and old newspapers.
"You know, Renzo," Julia said, "this is better than when we're always being chased away for begging."
"Yeah," Renzo replied with a grin. "At least here, it feels like we actually worked for it."
By afternoon, they had collected some bottles and cans. After selling them to the junk shop, it was enough for a bag of bread and two cans of sardines.
As Julia was walking down the road, she suddenly felt something under her foot. When she lifted it, she saw a silver necklace with a heart-shaped pendant.
"Guys, look at this! I found a necklace — it's so pretty!" she exclaimed excitedly.
"Wow, that's beautiful!" the kids said in unison.
Renzo stepped closer and took the necklace, examining it carefully. Then he gently placed it around Julia's neck.
"There, it looks perfect on you," Renzo said with a smile. Julia blushed and smiled as she touched the pendant hanging around her neck.
"Thank you so much," she said, giggling with delight.
Under the lamppost, they gathered again. The children's eyes sparkled at the simple dinner, their laughter echoing amid the honks of passing vehicles.
Unbeknownst to them, on the same street, the woman returned with her husband.
"There… this is where I saw her the other night," the woman said firmly, her eyes scanning the street for children.
But at that time, Julia and her group weren't there.
"Are you sure it was her?" the husband asked, his voice a mix of hope and fear.
"I may not have seen clearly… but my instinct tells me. It was Julia. I can't be wrong."
She kept searching every corner of the street.
They stopped briefly, asking some vendors nearby, but no one could give a definite answer. Heavy-hearted, they left, but their resolve remained firm.
"We'll come back tomorrow. Until we find her," the woman said.
And while the family searched, at the far end of the same street, Julia sat with Renzo, clutching the small tin can of their earnings—unaware that she was so close to being found by her real family.