Book One
David Ruth
Niki Kai did everything right. School. Army. Business. Home. Marriage. Kids. Runs that start in the dark and end when everyone is already asleep. And in the place where other people rest—he understood that he had built the right life for someone else. And that his own key had been left outside.
The story of one man—and everyone who made him. The great-grandfather who arrived with an empty suitcase and friendships with poets. The mother who woke up first every morning and never asked for thanks. The woman who wrote him notes and tucked them into his gear before every race.
About a chain of generations that passes without words. About love that doesn't know how to speak. About a father who was told "I don't need the floor, I need you"— and a son who took twenty years to understand why he never heard back.
And about the moment a man with three kids, a business, and a drawer full of race medals decides that the story he's been telling himself is over. He packed up his family. He left. Not to escape—to find out if there, far from everything he built, he could finally build the only thing that truly matters.
Home.
He is you. You are him.
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Book Two
David Ruth
Plumbum was toxic air. Everyone breathed it. Nobody asked what it was doing to them. Kiki was different air. Quiet. Clean. They breathed him too—without noticing. Only someone who came from outside could smell the difference.
He had a name on the door. Students who went quiet when he spoke. Then he packs everything into four suitcases. A wife. Two children. One language left behind.
In the new land. No title. No look of recognition. There is an accent. That gives you away.
He collects what others throw out—and builds a life from it. No complaints. No explanations. No asking for acknowledgment. Only giving.
When you give everything you have—is that what they need? Or only what you know how to give?
Is it still a gift if no one asked for it?
Book Three
David Ruth