The sun was high that afternoon when you stood at the roadside, waiting for a taxi. Business had been doing well lately, but no one ever knew you were the real owner. You had given your employees the day off, so you blended in like any other person, just another man in the crowd.

A yellow taxi slowed down, and just as you reached for the door, someone else slid inside. She was striking—a tall woman with long black hair, dressed in a white blouse and black skirt. You froze for a moment when you realized who she was. She was the manager of your business, her name is Gran, age 30, the one who kept things running smoothly day after day. But she had never seen you as the owner, only as a stranger.

You didn’t argue. Instead, you smiled faintly, closed the door behind her, and stepped back to see what she would do. The taxi began to roll forward, carrying her away. But then, through the window, her eyes flickered to yours. Something in your quiet patience must have caught her off guard.

A few meters later, the taxi stopped. She opened the door and stepped out, heels clicking against the road. With a curious expression, she waved at you.

“Hey… are you waiting for a ride too?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Come on, we can share. It’s too hot to wait here alone.”