Chapter 167

Iris

A little while later, Miles and I walk through the front doors of the orphanage. Miles is holding a container of chocolate chip and pecan cookies we baked together, and lifts it over his head like a trophy.

“We brought cookies!”

The children who are hanging out in the common room immediately perk up at the sound of Miles’ voice and rush over.

I stand back, watching with a smile as he greets each of them by name, already opening the container to share his bounty. He gives the little girl who he made friends with before, Amy, the first pick. She smiles and splits it with him, and my heart soars as I watch them run off together.

“Iris, darling!” Giulia’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn to find the elderly headmistress shuffling toward me with her arms outstretched. Her face somehow looks even more wrinkled than the last time I saw her, but her silver hair is still perfectly coiffed, pulled back into a neat bun.

“Giulia,” I say, allowing myself to be enveloped in her embrace. When we pull apart, I gesture around us. “The orphanage is looking to be in much better shape these days.”

Her eyes light up. “Yes, well, Arthur was instrumental in that. And I must say, Selina has been quite a help as well.”

That takes me by surprise, but I’m pleased. It’s nice to see the walls painted, the cobwebs cleaned, and the damage repaired. Even the common room has new furnishings and the kids are wearing new clothes.

Giulia studies me with those sharp eyes of hers. “You look tired, my dear.”

I let out a short laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little.” She loops her arm through mine and begins leading me away from the commotion in the common room. “Come, let’s have some tea while the children play.”

I glance back at Miles, who is now sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing a game with the other kids. He catches my eye and gives me a thumbs up. It’s clear he doesn’t need me hovering over him as much lately, which both breaks my heart and fills me with joy at the same time.

I follow Giulia to the kitchen. It’s cozy and warm now, with a new table in the corner that has several chairs around it and a vase of sunflowers in the center. Somehow, even though the place has been updated, Giulia has managed to make it appear like it’s been lived in for years—in a good way.

She gestures for me to sit while she puts a kettle on the stove. “So,” she says as she prepares our tea, her back to me, “I’ve been seeing you quite a lot on the news lately.”

I groan. “Don’t remind me.”

“That bad, is it?” She turns to look at me with one eyebrow raised.

“Worse,” I admit. “My approval ratings are in the toilet. The media is having a field day with every mistake I make. And apparently, I make a lot of them.”

Giulia makes a dismissive noise as she pours hot water into two mugs that I remember from my childhood. Some things never change. “The media is always looking for someone to tear down. It gives people a false sense of superiority.”

She brings the tea over and hands me a mug before sitting across from me. “But enough about what other people think. How are you, Iris? Truly?”

I stare down into my tea, watching the steam curl up from the surface. How am I? The question shouldn’t be so hard to answer, and yet…

“I’m… struggling,” I finally admit. “I thought I could handle this life, but it’s harder than I expected. Everything I do is scrutinized. Every mistake is magnified. And lately, I’ve been wondering if I’m just… not cut out for it.”

“Nonsense,” Giulia says firmly. “You’ve endured far worse than a bunch of gossiping vultures.”

I give her a weak smile. “It doesn’t feel that way right now.” I’m not sure if I have the strength to tell her about Veronica being Arthur’s second mate.

Giulia takes a sip of her tea, studying me over the rim of her mug for a moment before she says, “You know, the kids who went to your children’s day event still haven’t stopped talking about it.”

My head snaps up at that. “Really?”

She nods. “Oh, yes. They loved it. Those kids really needed that, you know. So did I.”

Her words make something warm unfurl in my chest. “I… Didn’t know it was that meaningful to anyone,” I admit. It seems the media coverage of my failures has far outweighed the coverage of that day. In fact, looking back, hardly anyone seemed to talk about it after more than a couple of days.

“Of course it did,” she says. “To all of us.” Giulia sets her mug down. “That day was special for my children, Iris. Human orphans don’t get many opportunities like that—to be treated like they’re important.”

Tears prick at the backs of my eyes. I know that feeling all too well. “The media didn’t report on any of that,” I murmur. “The public—”

“Oh, enough with the public,” Giulia cuts me off. Her voice isn’t harsh, but it’s firm, and when I snap my gaze up to meet hers, her eyes are hard. “Everything is ‘public’ this, ‘media’ that. Did you or did you not host that event for the children?”

My mouth works uselessly for a moment. I’m no stranger to Giulia’s harsh side—I was scolded on many occasions as a child—but I wasn’t expecting it as an adult.

But maybe I needed that.

“I… I did do it for the kids,” I say.

She nods curtly. “See? Then nothing else matters.”

I sit in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. She’s right, of course. Dammit, she’s right. All this time, I’ve been worrying about my public image, my public failures, me, me, me. But that’s not why I originally chose to take charity so seriously.

“Somewhere along the way, I guess I lost sight of my purpose,” I admit.

Giulia sighs into her mug. “I understand, Iris. Publicity is a very addictive drug; we all want to be loved by the masses, to be seen as a savior and a hero. But public acts of charity—the galas, the press releases, the photo opportunities—it’s often more about the giver than the receiver. It becomes a performance.”

“I guess I just… spent so much of my life being seen as ‘lesser’ because everyone thought I was a human that…” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “I needed more. I needed to be adored. I needed to show the world that I’m… good.”

“But you don’t need to show the world anything, my dear.” Giulia smiles. “The people who matter already know.”

Her words strike a chord in me, because she’s right. Arthur knows who I really am. Giulia does. Cliff and Augustine do. Alice and Hunter, Miles, my parents, Caleb, and most of all, the children here who my actions have helped…

They’re the people who really matter. Not the media. Not the news anchors. Not even Veronica.

As the afternoon wears on, an idea begins to form in my mind. I recall the principal at Wellington talking about their scholarship programs, programs that really help kids get a better education. I begin to consider making a scholarship myself, an anonymous one for kids who are gifted in the arts.

By the time I round up Miles to head home, I’m already mentally drafting a proposal for the principal. I’ll need to research the costs, set up a trust, figure out the selection criteria. But it gives me something to focus my mind on, something that has nothing to do with publicity and everything to do with the things I love the most: art and children.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Luna herself.”

I freeze, my heart stuttering in my chest. That voice—I’d know it anywhere. Slowly, I look up.

And there she is, standing by the gate.

Selina.