It began like any ordinary morning — the soft hum of early light through the windows, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and the familiar rhythm of chores stacking up. I was getting ready to take out the trash: yesterday’s leftovers, the discarded wrappers, the forgotten bits. It’s a task so ordinary I often barely think about it. But that morning, something made me pause. Near the bins, I noticed a black plastic bag crumpled under a small bush. At first, I barely saw it — just another bag someone had thrown aside. Then I heard something: a faint rustle, like paper shifting, or something alive trying to breathe. My steps slowed. I leaned in closer. Inside the bag, through a tiny tear, I saw two pairs of…

It began like any ordinary morning — the soft hum of early light through the windows, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and the familiar rhythm of chores stacking up. I was getting ready to take out the trash: yesterday’s leftovers, the discarded wrappers, the forgotten bits. It’s a task so ordinary I often barely think about it. But that morning, something made me pause. Near the bins, I noticed a black plastic bag crumpled under a small bush. At first, I barely saw it — just another bag someone had thrown aside. Then I heard something: a faint rustle, like paper shifting, or something alive trying to breathe. My steps slowed. I leaned in closer. Inside the bag, through a tiny tear, I saw two pairs of…