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.

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

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

too simple, their attempts at

arrive with their entourage of journalists, making a show of

only to wear a look of distaste once the cameras were

a world that only accepted the good, everyone had

as she watched from the sidelines, until

like her. Their eyes met, and it

try a different tactic.

seen through the charades at Angel’s Haven

silent game of getting to know

walls they thought unassailable.

saw as “good friends,” a concept neither fully understood nor

and even the director seemed relieved,

of normalcy.

life. Then Serena arrived. With her short-cropped hair and

mystery. Yasmine learned that Serena

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