Corktown, Detroit. Grim, filthy and most importantly, dark. On one corner you may stumble upon a homeless man, winning the lottery, but on the other? Someone who just lost all hope. Someone who has nothing left other than an empty bottle of the cheapest beer on the market and their crippling alcohol addiction that has won. All you can do for them is donate a few dollars and hope for the best.

But today was different. The sun was setting, and the heat waves were starting to fade. There was a cool and unusual breeze in the air, at least for Detroit standards.

"This is the last one. Last tribute of today." the man said to her.

She took the last drag of her cigarette then tossed it away, before grabbing the envelope.

"Do I need to count it Stanley?" she asked.

"It's all there but if you want to, be my guest." he said confidently.

After eyeballing him for a few seconds, she finally put the envelope into her leather jacket's pocket.

"I trust you..." she said.

The man tipped his hat and started walking away, feeling her eyes staring at him every step of the way until he got out of sight. She let out a sigh and started walking. The streets were quieter. Everyone was away for the summer. All she was listening to was her thoughts, overflowing her mind. 

She loitered around aimlessly for a while. She didn't know what had gotten into her. She wanted peace, but not the kind of peace one gets at home, being alone. The kind of peace that allows you to take in the air and just think. Think clearly. Make amends with yourself.

As she was walking, she stumbled upon a church. She knew she was going to hell but, she had never felt further away from her faith. She stood outside, staring at it. No prayers, no asking for forgiveness. Just a cold look. And a moment of self-reflection.

"I'm too far gone... Aren't I?" she whispered.

No response from anyone. Just complete silence. Until it was broken by a voice behind her.

"Hey miss... Umm... I'm sorry to ask but do you have any spare change? I'm really sorry. I just lost my job, my house... Everything." the man said as he started to tear up.

She turned around, scanning him from head to toe. Sincerity filled the air. They locked eyes. She could see. His eyes told stories that no one could ever describe with plain words. She moved a little closer. It was her turn to speak.

"Yes... You may have been through a lot. You may have lost a lot. But there's one thing that no one should ever lose... Hope." she said. 

The man could tell those words came from the heart. He nodded.

"I understand but... It's difficult when you don't get a second chance..." he said.

She took the envelope out, then looked at the church that was behind her. Some people don't get second chances. And some people don't get to choose. But she got both. And for that, she felt blessed.

"Well now you do..." she said softly, handing him the envelope that was filled with cash. Way more than enough for anyone to get started. All over again.

The man was speechless when he opened it. His face was filled with joy, hope and determination. He was ready. He knew he could do it. He'd show them all.

"Th-Thank you!!! I promise I'll make the most of it!" he said, more than ready for the world.

She said nothing. She just gave him a smile then started walking away once again. She believed in him. She felt at ease. She felt lighter. Not because she just got rid of that envelope, but because she got rid of at least some guilt she had in her. She knew that didn't make her any better but she didn't care. All she cared about was giving hope. And that she did.

It was getting dark. When she finally got home, she took a deep breath. The day was coming to an end. And so did a chapter of her life.

Katerina listens to Lucy, her own bright eyes clouding. The truth of it, about the difficulty of finding peace, of what occurred in the church. It's not nearly as tawdry as Hollywood or even the city of Chicago. When Lucy speaks the words of delivering the envelope of money, Katerina finds herself surprised by a genuine, if rare, stab of admiration.

"Lucy, Katerina here. Your story about Corktown... sounds like a bad place, a more subdued kind of quiet than some complain about. But what you did that's something else."

"Leaving those collections, that moment of peace just to have it shattered by some guy down on his luck. And then, rather than shaking him down or passing him by, you gave him that envelope? The entire thing? That's a play most folks in our universe wouldn't even consider, much less execute."

"You say 'too far gone,' guilt, but you gave that man hope. You gave him a do-over, something most people around here would kill for. That money might've been 'tribute,' but what you did? That was straight-up grace, Lucy. That was class."

"Seriously, that's great. In a world where everyone's always trying to take, you managed to give. And not a small amount of money, but enough for a real restart. That's another kind of power, another kind of leverage. One that no amount of money can buy."

"It's not something you see very much of, that kind of charity, that sort of instinct. It takes a certain strength to look inside, see your own 'guilt,' and translate it into hope for someone else. You believed in him, and you gave him the tools to believe in himself. That's a hell of a story, Lucy. A real hell of a story. Be strong."