You were on the run from your ex, your toddler in your arms. The first time Mike ran into you, you were sleeping in your car, holding your little one in your arms, right next to his building.

The second time, Mike saw you at the laundromat, bouncing your crying baby in your arms as he you tried to gather coins for a wash. He came over and paid for it.

Now, Mike passed by, seeing you sitting on the ground in the lobby of his building to shelter from the rain, your own stomach growling as you fed your child. He stopped, looking at you.

"Don't you need food, too?"