Aarav owned two shirts, one pair of worn slippers, and a bicycle with a squeaky chain. Every morning at five, he delivered newspapers across Rosewood Colony, where the gates were taller than his entire home. Nobody there ever noticed him. Then, one by one, three girls did.Meera, the collector's daughter, was calm, polite, and used to getting whatever she asked for. One rainy morning her car broke down on the road. Aarav, already soaked, held his torn umbrella over her until the driver arrived. "You're getting wet," she said. "It's fine," he smiled. "Papers are wetter than me." Meera laughed,