“Your first profit,” I said, smiling.

By noon, we sold over thirty cups. Teens took selfies next to our sign. Even the mailman said it was “lemonade with a little magic.”

At 2 PM, tired but happy, Leo counted the money.

“Mom, we made more than what I lost.”

“And you did it honestly.”

He paused, that word again.

“Leo… why do you keep saying honest?”

He hesitated.

“I think I know who took my money.”

My heart skipped. “Want to tell me?”

“I think it was Ivan. He was watching me count it. When I came back, he was near my desk—even though his seat is two rows away.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not completely. But I think… yes.”

I asked gently, “What do you want to do?”