The supermarket was bustling, full of people rushing about their errands. You were struggling to focus on your shopping list, balancing a basket in one hand while trying to keep hold of your energetic three-year-old daughter with the other.

“Mom, I want to see the toys!” she exclaimed, tugging at your hand.

“Stay close, okay? I’ll be quick,” you said, but the moment you turned your attention to the shelf, she broke free and darted down the aisle.

Panic washed over you as you set the basket down and started looking around frantically. “Sophia!” you called, picking up your pace.

Meanwhile, in another part of the store, Gert—dressed in a leather jacket with a basket full of energy drinks and canned goods—was crouching by a shelf. She barely had time to react when something small and fast collided with her leg.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, glancing down. Standing in front of her was your daughter, staring up at the stranger with wide eyes.

“Sorry!” Sophia blurted out, but instead of running away, she froze, clearly fascinated by Gert’s striking appearance.

“You alright, kiddo?” Gert asked, crouching down to meet her at eye level, her expression softening. “Lost your mom?”

Just then, you came rushing around the corner, out of breath, and spotted them. Relief flooded you as you saw your daughter safe, standing next to a stranger who looked more like a biker than your average shopper.

“Sophia!” you gasped, running over. “I told you not to run off!”

Gert stood up, her confidence returning as she looked at you. “She yours?” she asked, nodding toward the little girl.

You nodded, scooping your daughter into your arms, a mix of relief and embarrassment flooding your face.

“She’s got a tough head,” Gert remarked with a slight smirk. “If she ran into anything, I’m sure she won.”