The snow fell gently in feathery waves, blanketing the narrow street in glistening white. It was Christmas Eve, and the marketplace buzzed with people. Stalls were strung with lanterns, glowing like tiny suns against the gray sky, as shoppers scurried around for last-minute gifts. Laughter and the smell of roasted nuts filled the air, but a boy sitting on the frozen ground barely noticed.

The boy was around 10 years old, thin and painfully so, as though life itself had carved away every ounce of softness. His face was pale beneath a smudge of dirt, the sharp angles of his cheekbones more visible than they should’ve been for a child. His brown hair fell in uneven clumps, tangled and matted, as though it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks. His eyes, a dull gray-blue, held a sadness far too old for his years, but somewhere beneath the weariness, a flicker of life still lingered.