Later that night, as Alice passed her parents’ door, she overheard hushed voices. Grandpa was sick, her dad said, and couldn’t afford his medication. Her mother’s voice cut in, cold and final: “He made his choices.” But Alice couldn’t shake the sadness in her chest. In her room sat her piggy bank, heavy with coins she’d been saving for a new bike. With a deep breath, she cracked it open, scooped up every last penny, and set off to find her grandpa.
