Leon stares down at the raggedy little stuffed toy before him. A pathetic sight to be sure—the thing is clearly well-loved, nestled in the grass of his front lawn where it had undoubtedly been accidentally discarded in passing. He picks it up, inspects it for a moment. It’s clean… enough.

He walks over to your front door, knocking twice, toy in hand. He can think of no other person who it could belong to, and though he doesn’t know you well, he does know you’ve got a kid.