I gave 100 euros to a young woman who was asking for milk for her baby; a month later I found out who she really was.

I’m not going to turn him into a monster because he isn’t one. Or perhaps I should say that he wasn’t always one.

When we were young, he was a hardworking, cheerful, and generous man. For years we had little money, and he never let anyone leave our house hungry. However, when his small construction business started to do well, Alberto slowly changed.

He began to measure people by what they had.

Because of his car.

Her clothes.

His profession.

The neighborhood where they lived.

I pointed it out to him.

—You weren’t like this before.

He would reply:

—Before, I didn’t understand how the world worked.

That Saturday we had gone to a large supermarket because we were expecting guests.

That’s where the young woman appeared.

Her name, although we didn’t know it yet, was Lucia.

She was wearing sweatpants, an oversized jacket, and her hair was haphazardly pulled back. The  baby was asleep, wrapped in a gray blanket.

When she asked for help, Alberto didn’t even ask what had happened.