“Indie. She turned six last week.” Sutton’s voice cracked slightly. “I tried to make it special… but the shelter only had stale donuts.”
For the first time in years, Brennan felt something stir in his chest.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out his sleek black Amex Centurion card — the one with no limit, no questions, no oversight.
“Take it,” he said, holding it out.
Sutton stared at the card like it was a live grenade.
“I… I can’t.”
“You can. For twenty-four hours. Buy whatever you need. Whatever you want. No limits. I’ll be watching the transactions. Consider it an experiment in human nature.”
Tears welled in Sutton’s eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I don’t believe people are good anymore,” Brennan said honestly. “Prove me wrong.”
She hesitated for a long moment, then took the card with trembling fingers.
---
Less than forty minutes later, Brennan’s phone buzzed in the middle of his board meeting.
**First transaction: $18.47 at Walgreens**
He opened the banking app. She had bought children’s fever medicine, a thermometer, cough syrup, and a small stuffed bear.
Brennan smirked. Predictable.
Then the notifications started coming in faster.
