?Chapter 869:


    Lizzie lowered her head, her voice shy. “Elena, I gave some of the bread to my friends, but they didn’t believe me when I told them a fairy gave it to me, so I brought them here to see you.” She peeked up at Elena, her tone anxious. “You’re not upset, are you?”


    Elena spoke in a gentle tone. “Of course not. They cane in.” Lizzie’s face lit up with excitement as she turned and waved the others inside.


    The children slowly made their way into the vi’s grand hall, their faces filled with curiosity.


    Elena asked, “Now that the school’s finished, are you all nning to attend?”


    The group hesitated, shuffling their feet, until Lara Aston, the oldest among them, stepped forward. “Yes, we really want to go.”


    Lara, about fifteen years old, wore her hair in a ponytail, her skin bronzed by the sun, and there was a quiet strength in the way she stood—a strength born from hardship. She looked at Elena with open admiration. “Miss, would you be our teacher?”


    Lizzie had already told Lara how Elena had helped build the new school and hospital, a true kind soul indeed.


    Elena gave a small shake of the head. “No, I’m not a teacher.” The excitement in the room faded as disappointment clouded the children’s faces.


    After a short pause, Elena added, “But I can teach you how to draw, if you’d like.”


    Elena’s words held the children in rapt attention, their eyes wide with anticipation. Life on the ind was simple, with little to offer in the way of entertainment. The prospect of a drawing lesson thrilled them. With a radiant smile, Lizzie’s eyes crinkled into crescents as she eximed, “Elena, you’re incredible!”


    Lara, still young but mature beyond her years, gave a soft smile, her lips tightly sealed. She admired Elena, who stood with an air of elegance.


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    The group’s youngest member, Casper Szar, quickly overcame his previous moodiness. He pulled at Elena’s sleeve, looking up at her with curiosity. In a tender voice, he murmured, “I wanna learn how to draw too.”


    “Of course,” Elena responded, her nod affirming her agreement. At only five years old, Casper’s bright eyes sparkled with eagerness, despite his worn T-shirt and bare feet.


    These children were so young and untouched by harsh realities. Elena took out a pencil and several sheets of paper and settled at the table. She began to draw, starting with Casper, who was sitting closest to her. Her strokes were fluid and confident, born of familiarity. It was all instinct—the way her hand glided, swift and sure. In minutes, the lines had shaped themselves into aplete portrait.


    “Look, it’s Casper!” Lizzie eximed.


    Gathered around Elena, the children watched in amazement, their faces alight with wonder as Casper’s likeness took form on the paper.


    Elena resolved to create a unique portrait for each child.


    A short distance away, Wesley engaged in a phone conversation, hearing Felix out. He interjected asionally with remarks that were concise and incisive. Peace had always been Wesley’s preference. Loud kids weren’t his thing, and he usually steered clear. His expression remained neutral, his brows slightly knitted, yet he tolerated their presence for Elena’s sake.


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