That much straight into her account—labeled as "Orphanage Charity Fund."
Her mind spun. Add the beds Suho had ordered, the children's desks, the rubber flooring, and the playground equipment—easily over $800,000 in a single day.
Her dream for years had been to scrape together enough to give the orphanage kids a normal life: warm beds, safe food, and a place to play. She worked part-time jobs, skipped meals, and lived like a monk to save. And today… with a single flick of her boss's pen, everything was solved.
It should have been joy. And it was, partly. But underneath, she felt an odd emptiness. If the orphanage no longer needs me… then what do I live for?
Her roommate Jo Hee noticed the strange expression. "What's wrong, Xiaorin?"
Rin bit her lip. "Hee, what… what if the orphanage suddenly doesn't need my help anymore?"
