Mari Felices

Sometimes, heroes don’t wear uniforms. Sometimes they’re in fancy places, dressed in ordinary clothes. It was supposed to be a normal afternoon. My employer’s son and I were heading home after his swimming class. We took the train, then boarded a bus toward Causeway Bay. I glanced at my phone and froze—several missed calls from my sir. My phone is always on silent, so I hadn’t heard it ring. I called him back immediately. He sounded urgent.   “Where are you?” he asked.   “We’re on the bus to Causeway Bay,” I replied.   “When you get off, stay at the bus stop. I’ll come pick you up.” It was just one stop from Hung Hom to Causeway Bay. Simple enough. But when we got off the bus, my sir called again. I was confused, so I handed the phone to his son. After a short exchange, the boy said, “Let’s go over there—it’s near the subway. Daddy will meet us there.” We walked toward the subway entrance. I paused to take a few photos of Victoria Harbour, tryin...