He took it.
Nathaniel forced a laugh. “Elena, right? Didn’t expect to see you playing dress-up.”
She turned her head slightly.
“Didn’t expect to see you playing intelligent,” she replied pleasantly.
A sharp cough rippled nearby.
Sebastian almost smiled.
Later, near a sculpture, Nathaniel cornered her.
“You’re acting like you belong here,” he said under his breath.
Elena didn’t step back.
“Belonging isn’t inherited,” she answered. “It’s proven.”
Sebastian stepped forward. “Apologize.”
Nathaniel blinked. “For what?”
“For being cruel.”
Nathaniel’s voice rose. “Ladies and gentlemen! A toast—to Sebastian Cole, who brought his help to mingle with donors!”
A nervous ripple spread through the crowd.
Elena squeezed Sebastian’s arm once.
Let me.
She stepped forward into the spotlight Nathaniel had aimed at her.
“I love a toast,” she said clearly.
The room stilled.
“To literacy,” she continued. “To the foundation. To the children who’ll receive books tonight.”
She paused.
“And to Mr. Cole. For inviting me not as staff… but as someone shaped by the very program you celebrate.”
Whispers.
“When I was twelve,” she said, “I waited in public libraries while my mother cleaned houses. That library saved me.”