E’s POV


    <b>+25 </b><b>Bonus </b>


    Alexander and I visited every location on Jane’s list. The responses were much the same as the soup kitchen: they didn’t trust me. Half of them didn’t even trust Alexander by extension. Some even said we were both untrustworthy and that Brian was right in his campaign to get Alexander out of office.


    By the time we returned home, we were both feeling dejected. I sank into one of the armchairs in Alexander’s office while he dialed Jane on speaker and exined everything.


    “Hmm,” her voice came back once he was finished. “Well, that’s not ideal. But not all is lost. idea.”


    ckup


    “We’ll take anything at this point,” Alexander said. We both really did want to give back to the people, not just improve our images. Being rejected from every opportunity was a bitter wake–up call to that.


    Jane hesitated, and I could hear the sound of papers shuffling on her end. Then, she said, “The holidays areing up. How about hosting a gift drive?”


    I furrowed my brow. “Won’t that go against our original intentions?” I asked. “If estate is hosting it, they’ll just think we’re trying to get attention again.”


    emat the Alpha


    “Actually, there is a way for you to do this anonymously,” she said. “Normally, the organizers behind charity efforts must be publicized; but there is one exception. The Santa us use.”


    “The Santa us use.” Alexander snorted. “You’re joking. <i>Th </i>


    can’t be real.”


    “Well, I’m making up the terminology, but it does exist,” Jane replied. “ording to the territory bws, during the holiday season<b>, </b>charity organizers may anonymize their efforts specifically when ites to holiday gift drives. They may instead do it under the pseudonym of ‘Santa us‘. It’s meant to protect children from finding out that Santa isn’t real.”


    Alexander and I stared at each other. I had never heard of this before; neither, it


    emed, had he.


    But if it was possible to host a charity event anonymously, then we would ept it. Even if it felt a little silly.


    A few dayster, Alexander and I found ourselves standing in front of the bathroom mirror of the localmunity center. I didn’t recognize the people staring back at us; we were both fully decked out in Santa and Mrs. us outfits, right down to the beard for Alexander and the white wig for me.


    I couldn’t help but snort as I adjusted my little red cap atop my head. I looked at Alexander, who was currently stuffing more cotton fluff into his jacket to fill out his belly.


    “This look suits you,” Iughed, tugging on his long, white beard.


    Alexander grinned and patted his belly. “It’s like a glimpse into the future.” He turned to me and smirked impishly. “Although, please promise you won’t opt for that hairstyle in your old age. It doesn’t suit you.”


    “Speak for yourself, Grandpa. I think I look sexy as an old woman.”


    We headed out into the main area, which had been transformed from a typicalmunity center into a winter wondend.


    Fake snow in the form of the same cotton fluff that filled Alexander’s jacket was spread across the floor, white and blue streamers hung from the ceilings, workers were dressed as elves, and two red and white chairs were set up


    <b>for </b><b>us</b><b>. </b>


    <b>+25 </b>Bonus


    The line was already going out the door, parents holding the hands of little children who shrieked excitedly and pointed when they saw us.


    “Look, Mommy!” a little boy cried out. “It’s Santa and Mrs. us!”


    Alexander and I took our seats, and Alexander smiled, patting his knee as the little boy ran up to him. He hoisted the boy up onto hisp and let out a jolly “Ho, ho, ho!“, much to the boy’s delight, who blushed and wrung his hands nervously like he was meeting his favorite celebrity.


    AdminJ