Elara Quinn POV
"Wait. Stop."
Elara held up her hand as the number flashed on the screen.
The room went quiet.
A volunteer leaned over her shoulder. "What is it?"
Elara stared, her heart pounding, afraid to blink. Then she let out a breath that sounded like a laugh and a cry mixed together.
"Forty seven thousand dollars," she said.
For one second, no one spoke.
Then the room exploded.
Cheers filled the air. Someone clapped. Someone hugged her without asking. Elara felt tears sting her eyes as the number stayed bright and real on the screen.
"We did it," she whispered. "We really did it."
The charity drive was working. Despite the fear. Despite the strange warnings. Despite the money that had vanished and left her shaken.
People still gave.
People still cared.
Elara wiped her eyes and forced a smile. "Okay, everyone. Back to work. There are still families waiting."
She moved through the room, steady and focused. This was where she felt strongest. Helping. Listening. Being useful.
That was when she saw Nina Santos.
Nina stood near the sign in table, holding her mother's hand. She was small, with big eyes that watched everything. Her coat sleeves were too long, but Elara told herself not to notice.
"Hi," Elara said softly, kneeling to Nina's level. "You must be Nina."
Nina nodded.
"I'm Elara."
Nina looked at her mother, then back at Elara. "Are you the one who helps?"
Elara smiled. "I try."
Nina's mother spoke next. Her voice was tired but kind. "We were told to come today. Someone said you could help us with food and winter supplies."
"Yes," Elara said quickly. "Of course. Come with me."
She led them to a quieter corner. As they talked, Elara learned about Nina's school. About her brother who stayed home sick. About how their heater had broken the week before.
Elara listened. Really listened.
She wrote notes. She made calls. She checked boxes.
"We can get you groceries for the week," Elara said. "And coats. And we can help with the heater repair."
Nina's mother covered her mouth. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Elara replied. "That's what we're here for."
Nina tugged on Elara's sleeve. "Are you an angel?"
Elara laughed softly. "No. Just a person."
Nina frowned, thinking hard. "My teacher says angels help when people feel scared."
Elara felt something crack open in her chest.
"Then maybe," she said gently, "I'm just helping today."
Nina smiled wide.
A little later, after the family was settled and supplies were packed, Nina ran back to Elara holding something.
"For you," Nina said.
It was a card. Folded unevenly. Covered in crayon.
Elara took it carefully. Inside were messy letters and a drawing of a stick figure with wings.
Thank you my angel.
Elara pressed her lips together as tears spilled over.
"This is beautiful," she said. "I'm going to keep it forever."
Nina hugged her hard, then ran back to her mother.
Elara stood there for a moment, holding the card to her chest.
This was why she did this.
Not numbers. Not praise. Moments like this.
She turned and nearly ran into Marcus.
"Oh. Sorry," she said.
Marcus smiled. "Don't apologize. That was quite a moment."
Elara wiped her eyes, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to get emotional."
"Emotion is powerful," Marcus replied. "People respond to it."
She nodded, distracted, and tucked the card into her bag.
The afternoon moved fast. More families came. More names. More stories. Elara gave everything she had.
Still, she felt eyes on her.
Every time she looked up, Marcus was nearby. Watching. Listening. Writing something down in his notebook.
At first, she told herself it was nothing. He was working. That was his job.
But when she helped another family, she saw him pause and write again.
When she hugged a crying mother, he noted something.
When a volunteer thanked Elara for staying late, Marcus smiled and wrote.
Her stomach tightened.
Later, she checked the donation screen again. The number held steady. No changes. No warnings.
Good.
Maybe today would end peacefully.
As the last family left, Elara sank into a chair. Her body ached, but her heart felt full.
"Great work today," a volunteer said as she passed.
"Thank you," Elara replied.
She reached into her bag and pulled out Nina's card. She traced the letters with her thumb.
"My angel," she whispered.
Across the room, Marcus watched.
He stood slightly apart, his notebook open.
He did not smile.
He wrote slowly.
Emotional connection to families.
He paused.
Strong trust bond.
Another pause.
Use this.
Marcus closed the notebook and slipped it into his jacket.
Elara stood and waved goodbye to the last volunteer. She turned back toward the office, still smiling.
She did not see Marcus watching her leave.
She did not know that kindness was being measured.
And she did not know that the very thing that made her special was about to be used against her.
Outside, Christmas lights glowed brighter as night fell.
Inside, something dark was learning exactly how to hurt her.