“Where did you get this watch?” — a millionaire recognizes the watch of his supposedly dead son on the wrist of a poor boy, and when the boy tells the truth, the man is left speechless by the answer… 
Mark buried his son without a body.
Three years ago, his seven-year-old son disappeared at sea during a storm. The boat capsized near the shore, and the waves swallowed everything within seconds.
Rescue teams worked for weeks: divers searched the seabed, helicopters circled above the water, the police reviewed every possible report. No trace. Not a single piece of clothing. No body. In the end — an official death certificate. The judge signed it, and the world demanded that Mark move on.
But how do you move on when you don’t know where your son is?
Mark couldn’t. He kept breathing, working, signing contracts, growing his fortune, but inside everything had frozen. Money lost its taste, houses their meaning, people their faces. In his chest there was an emptiness that neither time nor luxury could fill.
Until one ordinary Thursday.
Mark was wandering aimlessly along an improvised market on the outskirts of the city. The hum of voices, the smell of food, the dust under his feet — he didn’t even remember why he was there. And suddenly, through the noise, he heard a sound. Thin, metallic, barely audible. A melody.
Mark’s heart skipped a beat.
He knew it. Every last note. Because he himself had once hummed it to a composer — a lullaby meant only for his son Alex. That melody had been recorded into a custom-made wristwatch. A one-of-a-kind piece. A birthday gift for his son.
Mark turned sharply and followed the sound, pushing through the crowd, unaware of anything around him. And then he saw a boy about nine years old. Thin, dirty, wearing a torn T-shirt. On his wrist was a child’s watch — scratched, faded… and playing that very melody.
Mark slowly sank to his knees and gently took the boy’s hand, as if afraid he might disappear.
“Easy… I won’t hurt you,” he said hoarsely. “That watch… where did you get it?”
The boy tensed and covered his wrist with his other hand, protecting the watch as if it were the most valuable thing he owned.
Then he quietly said something that left the millionaire frozen in horror 
Continuation in the first comment 
“It’s a gift from my dad.”
Mark froze.
“Which… dad?” he managed to whisper.
“The one who found the boy in the sea,” the child continued. “He said… there was a storm. The boy was alive, but very weak. They pulled him ashore. Dad said he held onto that watch the whole time and never let it go.”
Mark stopped breathing.
“And then…” the boy lowered his eyes, “they had no money. None at all. They couldn’t keep the child. They took him to an orphanage. And my dad kept the watch… and later gave it to me.”
A roaring filled Mark’s ears. He looked at the boy and no longer saw the market, the people, or the sky. He saw the storm. He saw his son. Alive.
For three years, he had mourned a child who had not died. A hope was born inside him that he would find his son very soon. The most important thing was that he was alive.
