The Angel’s Haven Orphanage wasn’t exactly a beacon for philanthropy. Nestled in an unassuming corner of town,

it was too small to catch the eye of tycoons or celebrities looking for a charity to boost their image. Without the lure

of media buzz, the orphanage didn’t attract those seeking to showcase their generosity for a PR boost. Everyone

knew that big gestures during a crisis got more attention than the quiet struggle of making ends meet.

Still, Angel’s Haven Orphanage stayed afloat through the years, thanks to the silent support of a few true

philanthropists who didn’t need their names in lights.

Yasmine was too young to understand these complexities at six or seven. But as she grew older, the weight of the

orphanage’s struggles became more apparent. The quality of meals improved with every benefactor’s visit, and the

director’s smile returned briefly, teaching Yasmine that their survival hinged on the kindness of strangers.

To the kids, these visitors were akin to Santa Claus, distributing cookies, toys, or books in the classroom, leaving

them beaming with joy. All except for one boy, who, despite his tender age, always seemed to cloak himself in

solitude, warding off any approach with an invisible barrier.

by the flowerbeds, with a book in her hands, observing her peers

investigative gaze. She hoped to find a friend among them, yet over time, she

motives too simple, their attempts

would arrive with their entourage of journalists, making a

rehearsed lines, only to wear

that only accepted

until one day she noticed the aloof

Their eyes met, and it

try a different tactic.

conclusion. Both had seen through the charades at Angel’s Haven Orphanage

silent game

walls they thought unassailable.

as “good friends,” a concept neither fully

their lives seemed richer for it, and even the director seemed relieved,

of normalcy.

Serena arrived. With her short-cropped hair

mystery. Yasmine learned that Serena was

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