Supergirl soared through the sky, her cape flowing behind her like a banner of hope. As she gazed over Metropolis, something caught her eye—a small figure lying motionless on a bed through an open window.
Supergirl landed softly beside the bed, concern etched on her face. "Hey there, little guy. What's going on?" she asked gently.
The boy opened his eyes weakly, managing a small smile. "I have a cold, and my parents are busy. They couldn't be here," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper.
Supergirl swiftly moved to the kitchen, her determination unwavering. With nimble hands, she prepared a warm pot of chicken soup, the steam curling upwards like a gentle promise of comfort.
Supergirl returned, carrying the steaming bowl. "Here you go. This should help you feel better," she said with a kind smile. The boy took a spoonful, savoring the warmth spreading through him. "Thank you, Supergirl," he murmured, gratitude evident in his eyes.
Supergirl visited him daily, ensuring he had everything he needed. As the days passed, the boy's strength returned, and with it, his joyful spirit. "I feel so much better, thanks to you," he said, beaming up at her.
Supergirl prepared to leave, her heart full. "If you ever need me, just look up," she said, giving the boy a reassuring wink before taking flight into the twilight.
















