Unpriced

The Sound of Home

Roxy stared at the last few inches of her latte.

The ice had melted. The foam had disappeared. The drink was barely warm anymore.

Still, she didn't move.

She wasn't staying because she wanted another sip.

She was staying because leaving meant returning to a world where every moment already belonged to someone else.

A schedule.

A meeting.

A dress fitting.

A family dinner where every conversation had an expectation attached.

Here, nobody expected anything.

The café continued around her.

The hiss of the espresso machine.

The soft scrape of chairs against the floor.

The quiet conversations of strangers who had no idea who she was.

A little girl near the window held up a cookie covered in colorful frosting.

"Look, Daddy! I made a flower!"

Her father smiled proudly.

"That is the most beautiful flower I've ever seen."

The little girl beamed.

Roxy found herself smiling too.

It was such a small thing.

A father looking at his daughter like she had created something priceless.

She wondered what that felt like.

To be looked at without conditions.

Her phone sat untouched beside her cup.

For once, she didn't feel the need to check it.

No missed calls from Evelyn.

No messages reminding her where she needed to be.

No reminders that she was Roxanne Sterling.

Just Roxy.

The barista noticed her empty cup.

"You survived."

Roxy looked up, confused.

The young woman laughed.

"Your first coffee order."

Roxy smiled.

"Was I that obvious?"

"A little."

"I was nervous."

The barista leaned against the counter.

"Why?"

Roxy glanced down at the cup in her hands.

"Because it was something simple."

The answer surprised even her.

The barista's smile softened.

"Sometimes simple things are the hardest ones."

Roxy looked at her for a moment.

Maybe that was true.

Maybe she had spent so long surrounded by expensive things that she forgot how special ordinary moments could be.

She stood and carried her cup toward the collection station.

"Thank you."

"Hope I see you again."

Roxy paused.

The words shouldn't have mattered.

But they did.

Because nobody had said them like they actually meant it.

She smiled.

"I think you will."

Outside, the city greeted her with noise.

Cars rushing past.

People walking quickly.

Voices blending together.

But something felt different.

For the first time, she wasn't looking for the fastest way back.

She simply walked.

No driver waiting.

No security following.

No one telling her where to go.

Just her.

She passed a small bookstore and stopped when she saw a display of children's books in the window.

A little boy holding a superhero book caught her attention.

His mother laughed as he explained, with complete seriousness, why he could definitely become one someday.

Roxy smiled before continuing.

A few minutes later, she passed a fruit stand.

The vendor called out to customers, joking with everyone who stopped.

Nobody cared about titles.

Nobody cared about family names.

Nobody cared about the company her father built.

They were just people.

Living.

Laughing.

Existing.

Then she heard it.

A whistle.

A shout.

"No fair!"

"You were out!"

"I was not!"

A burst of laughter followed.

Roxy stopped.

The sound was different from the polished laughter she heard at charity events.

That laughter was careful.

Controlled.

This wasn't.

This was loud.

Messy.

Real.

Sarah's voice returned to her memory.

"If you hear children making more noise than the adults, you'll know you've found it."

A smile slowly appeared on her face.

She followed the sound.

The old brick building came into view.

Colorful murals covered the walls.

Bright handprints.

Painted flowers.

Children's drawings turned into artwork.

The building had cracks.

The windows were old.

The paint was fading.

But somehow...

It looked alive.

A group of children ran across the playground beside it.

Teenagers played basketball on a worn court.

Two older men argued over dominoes beneath a tree.

A speaker played music from somewhere near the entrance.

The smell of barbecue floated through the air.

Roxy stood there quietly.

She had walked past buildings worth millions.

She had lived in a mansion bigger than some hotels.

Yet nothing had ever looked more welcoming.

Above the entrance was a wooden sign.

THE SANCTUARY

Her breath caught.

"So this is it..."

Before she could move—

A red soccer ball rolled across the pavement.

It bumped gently against her shoe.

"Hey!"

A child's voice called out.

"Can you kick it back?"

Roxy looked up.

A group of children watched her.

Waiting.

She looked back down at the ball.

She had negotiated business deals.

Given speeches.

Attended meetings with some of the most powerful people in New York.

But somehow...

A soccer ball felt intimidating.

"I should warn you," she called out. "I'm probably terrible at this."

A little boy crossed his arms dramatically.

"That's okay."

He pointed toward the basketball court.

"Marcus is worse."

"Hey!"

A teenager shouted.

The children exploded into laughter.

Even Roxy laughed.

She gently kicked the ball.

It went completely the wrong direction.

The laughter got louder.

The little boy ran after it.

"That was almost good!"

"Almost?"

"Very almost."

She shook her head, smiling.

The boy trapped the ball under his foot and walked back toward her.

He had messy curls, bright brown eyes, and a streak of blue paint across his cheek.

His sneakers were worn.

One shoelace was untied.

But his smile was the kind that made people smile back.

"I'm Leo."

He held out his hand.

Roxy looked at it.

Then took it.

"I'm Roxy."

The boy repeated her name like he was making sure he remembered it.

"Roxy."

A strange feeling moved through her.

He didn't say it like a nickname.

He said it like it was enough.

"You new?"

She glanced toward the building.

"I think so."

"You think so?"

Roxy shrugged.

"I wasn't really planning on coming here."

Leo studied her face.

"Did you get lost?"

She almost laughed.

"Maybe."

He nodded seriously.

"That happens."

Then he reached for her hand.

"Come on."

Roxy blinked.

"Where are we going?"

"Mama Beatrice."

"Why?"

"Because you look hungry."

Roxy opened her mouth to argue.

Then stopped.

Because somehow...

The child was right.

"I didn't say I was hungry."

Leo shrugged.

"People don't always say things."

The answer was far too wise coming from a seven-year-old.

Roxy followed him inside.

The moment she stepped through the doors, she noticed everything.

Children's drawings covered the walls.

Old photographs filled bulletin boards.

A bookshelf leaned slightly against one corner.

The furniture didn't match.

Some chairs were clearly older than others.

But every piece looked loved.

A place didn't need to be perfect to feel like home.

"Miss Beatrice!"

Leo shouted.

A voice immediately answered.

"Leo Carter!"

He froze.

"Uh-oh."

"You know better than to yell inside my building."

"I found someone."

"That doesn't mean you need to announce it to the entire neighborhood."

"It might be important."

"It might not."

Heavy footsteps approached.

A woman appeared from the hallway wearing a floral apron.

Her eyes moved from Leo...

To Roxy.

And softened.

"Oh."

A gentle smile touched her face.

"Well, look at you."

Roxy smiled awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Baby, if you were interrupting, Leo would have introduced you as trouble."

"I heard that," Leo protested.

Mama Beatrice laughed.

"I'm Beatrice."

She reached for Roxy's hand.

"And around here, people call me Mama Beatrice."

Roxy shook her hand.

"It's nice to meet you."

Mama Beatrice studied her for a moment.

Not her clothes.

Not her appearance.

Her.

"When was the last time you ate?"

The question caught Roxy off guard.

She looked away.

That was answer enough.

Mama Beatrice nodded.

"Mmm-hmm."

"I know that look."

Roxy smiled faintly.

"I promise I'm fine."

"Everybody says that right before they admit they aren't."

Leo nodded.

"She's right."

Roxy laughed softly.

Mama Beatrice pointed toward the dining hall.

"Lunch is in ten minutes."

"Oh, I couldn't—"

"You could."

"I don't want to impose."

Mama Beatrice placed a hand over her chest dramatically.

"The only thing you're imposing on is my patience."

Leo grinned.

"I told you."

Roxy looked between them.

And for reasons she couldn't explain...

She didn't feel like she was visiting.

She didn't feel like she was pretending.

She didn't feel like someone passing through.

She felt like someone had been waiting for her.

And somehow...

That felt more valuable than anything she had ever owned.