Dexter Norman ended up living in a tiny, run-down neighborhood on the outskirts of New York. He managed to find a small, relatively clean single-room home—a shabby place that barely offered basic shelter, but at least it was all his own. He spent days, then weeks, waiting for someone from the Norman family to come looking for him, but no one ever showed up. The absence of any search party confirmed what Dexter had always suspected: he wasn’t truly wanted back home.
The impoverished neighborhood he lived in was tight-knit and wary of outsiders. Before long, rumors started swirling about the mysterious newcomer. Some speculated that he was a runaway from a wealthy family; others insisted he was just an aimless street kid. Dexter tried to ignore the whispers, but being only a child, it wasn’
