“Thank you,” Elara said. “I didn’t know where to turn.”

She walked to the tram stop, shivering, hoping a neighbor might let her use a phone. But the platform was empty. Then she noticed a small, worn wooden bench near the bike racks. On it lay a discarded Manchester Evening News and, tucked under the bench, a plastic wallet. Inside: a library card, a receipt for birdseed from the garden centre, and a folded note.

The note read: "If lost, please return to Jean, 12 Parsons Court, off School Lane. I can't walk far anymore, but my kettle is always on." No phone. No keys. But a name and a place.