Vincent leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, the morning sun filtering through the tall windows of his penthouse office, casting a warm glow over the bookshelves and gleaming surfaces. He had just finished reading the business section of the newspaper, yet the numbers and market predictions that usually consumed his thoughts were momentarily irrelevant. He folded the newspaper carefully and turned his full attention to his son, Elliot, who perched on the edge of…Vincent leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, the morning sun filtering through the tall windows of his penthouse office, casting a warm glow over the bookshelves and gleaming surfaces.

He had just finished reading the business section of the newspaper, yet the numbers and market predictions that usually consumed his thoughts were momentarily irrelevant.

He folded the newspaper carefully and turned his full attention to his son, Elliot, who perched on the edge of the sofa across from him, legs swinging with restless energy. “Dad,” Elliot said, his voice soft but probing, “why do people have to be poor?”

Vincent paused. He had expected questions about his work, about stock prices or travel plans, but not this—this piercing question from a seven-year-old who had been shielded from the harsher realities of life.

He could see the genuine curiosity in Elliot’s wide, thoughtful eyes, a mix of innocence and intelligence.