Blurb：
After sacrificing two fingers for his grandmother's surgery, Tally thought his story was over. But when tragedy strikes the Henderson family—the factory owner who showed him kindness—Tally sees a new purpose. Haunted by guilt yet driven by a debt of $30,000, he must rise from despair to protect the owner's orphaned son. A tale of sacrifice, redemption, and the unbreakable bonds of family. Will Tally's second chance at life heal old wounds or unravel deeper secrets? Dive into this emotional journey where every choice echoes with the weight of the past.Content：
The year I was dirt poor, I walked into the factory and let the gears mangle two of my fingers for my grandmother's thirty-thousand-dollar surgery.The owner, his face etched with pity, offered me eighty thousand in compensation. Drowning in guilt, I only took the thirty.
Years have passed. My grandmother is long gone.
But then I saw the trending news. That same factory had burned to the ground. The owner was dead—a heart attack, they said.
His wife was missing.
Their twelve-year-old son had been sent to an orphanage.
I stared at the boy's helpless, terrified eyes on the screen, then at the pills I was about to swallow. I washed them down the drain.
Alright then... time to live again.
All for the sake of that thirty thousand.
1
Even after all these years, the sight of my own hand, the two missing fingers, could still summon a thick, choking wave of guilt.
But if I could go back, I know I’d do it again.
Because back then, I was out of options. Utterly and completely.
My grandmother found me in a dumpster on a snowy night. Without her, I would have frozen to death in the biting cold before my first sunrise. Now, she had stomach cancer, and the doctor said the surgery and follow-up treatments would cost eighty thousand dollars, minimum.
We sold everything. Our tiny, crumbling one-room apartment, the mismatched, worthless furniture inside—all of it. It brought in a little over fifty thousand.
We were still thirty thousand short.
“Let’s not do it, Tally,” she’d said, her voice thin as old paper. “I’ve lived a full life. I can’t have you sleeping on the streets because of me.”
I shook my head, my throat tight. “I’d rather sleep on the street than be without you, Nana. We… we have to do this.”
She pulled me into her arms, her sigh melting into a sob. We just held each other and cried, a single, desperate knot of grief in the cold, dark night.
We both knew what thirty thousand dollars was to us: an impossible, astronomical sum. Where could we possibly find that kind of money? She had no other family. She only had me.
And I didn't have the thirty thousand dollars that could save her.
But at nineteen, I had a boundless, reckless courage.
The moment I shoved my hand into the blur of the spinning gears, the pain was so blinding I nearly passed out. But through the haze, I saw the panicked, horrified faces of my coworkers, and in their eyes, I saw a flicker of hope.
Nana was going to be saved.
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The End