Chapter 33:
Lucas strode through the Northern District's cold, damp streets, his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn-out hoodie. The setting sun cast long shadows against the cracked pavent, painting the world in deep shades of orange and gold.
Despite the district's reputation for cri and corruption, he found solace in the familiar route that led him ho—to the orphanage.
To others, it was just another rundown building in a decaying part of the city, but to Lucas, it was everything.
But today was different. Today, his hoodie wasn't the only thing weighed down—his arms ached from carrying the large bags slung over his shoulders, filled to the brim with food, snacks, and toys.
As he approached, the orphanage ca into view: a large, old brick structure with faded paint and broken windows hastily patched with cardboard. A rusted tal gate stood slightly ajar, its once-vibrant blue paint now peeling away to reveal the corroded iron underneath. The sign above the entrance, which once proudly displayed the orphanage's na, now had missing letters, making it barely readable.
Lucas stepped inside and was imdiately t with the sounds of children playing. Their laughter echoed through the hall, mixing with the faint creaks of the wooden floors and the distant hum of the city outside.
"Lucas is back!"
A chorus of excited voices rang out as a swarm of children, ranging from toddlers to preteens, rushed toward him.
A small girl with bright green eyes and tangled brown hair latched onto his leg, looking up at him with a toothy grin. "Did you bring us anything?" she asked, her voice filled with hope.
Lucas smirked and set the bags down with a dramatic sigh of relief. "You think I'd co back empty-handed?"
The children gasped as he unzipped one of the bags, revealing an assortnt of toys—stuffed animals, plastic action figures, small cars, and even a few board gas. Their eyes widened in disbelief.
"No way!" one of the boys shouted.
Lucas reached into the second bag and pulled out packets of chips, candies, and even so fresh fruit. "And for my favorite little gremlins—so snacks."
The room erupted into cheers. Children scrambled forward, grabbing at the toys and food, their joy filling every corner of the orphanage.
Lucas ruffled the small girl's hair as she clutched a stuffed rabbit to her chest. "Hope that's enough for now," he said with a wink.
The older kids, including Sam, gave him knowing looks. "Where'd you get all this, Lucas?"
Lucas just smirked, slinging an arm over Sam's shoulder. "Let's just say I did so 'business' today."
He didn't elaborate.
Because at the end of the day, none of that mattered.
What mattered was the laughter, the excitent, and the way the orphanage—for just one night—felt like a place where kids could actually be kids
A group of boys around ten years old exchanged glances before one of them, Sam, stepped forward. "Of course! We're always good," he said, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggested otherwise.
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Then what happened to the broken window upstairs?"
The boys stiffened. "Uh... the wind did it?"
Lucas shook his head with a sigh, but he couldn't hide his amusent. "You little punks better clean up after yourselves before Sister Madeline finds out."
The ntion of the orphanage caretaker sent a shiver through the kids. Sister Madeline was an elderly woman with a kind but strict deanor. She had raised Lucas and the other children like they were her own, and while she had a soft heart, she did not tolerate nonsense.
Lucas made his way inside, passing through the dimly lit hallways that carried the weight of countless mories. The walls were lined with old, faded photos of past orphans who had co and gone, so lucky enough to find new families, others not so fortunate.
Eventually, he found Madeline in the kitchen, kneeling as she adjusted the flas of the gas stove. The warmth of boiling stew filled the room, a stark contrast to the cold, unwelcoming air of the outside world.
"You're late," she said without turning around, her voice gentle yet firm.
Lucas leaned against the counter. "Yeah, I had to take care of so things."
She finally looked up, her wrinkled face marked with both exhaustion and affection. "And by 'take care of things,' you an getting into trouble?"
Lucas smirked. "Sothing like that."
She shook her head but didn't press further. Instead, she motioned for him to sit at the small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. Lucas obeyed, watching as she carefully stirred the pot.
After a mont, he spoke. "I heard sothing today. So people have been trying to buy this place... forcing you out."
Madeline's stirring slowed. "Who told you that?"
"The kids. They heard you talking about it," Lucas replied, his voice quieter now. "Who's behind it?"
She sighed, setting down the ladle.
"So n ca by a few days ago.
They said they represented a 'business' interested in this property.
They claid it was for urban developnt, but I know what that really ans."
Lucas clenched his fists. "Gangs?"
She nodded. "Stray Dogs gang . They want the land, and they want us out. Ever since they started interfering, we haven't received a single donation.
The local businesses used to help us, but now they're too afraid to even be seen talking to .
If this keeps up, I don't know how much longer we can keep the orphanage running."
Lucas exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. He had always known that the world was cruel, but hearing it directly from Madeline made his blood boil.
"Did they threaten you?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
She hesitated before nodding. "They said if we didn't accept their offer, we'd regret it."
Lucas's mind raced.
He had grown up in these streets, seen what happened when people crossed the wrong gangs.
But this wasn't just so random dispute—this was his ho, his family they were trying to destroy.
"Who exactly are they?" he pressed.
Madeline hesitated. "The man leading them... his na is Viktor. He's one of the enforcers for the Stray Dogs."
Lucas's eyes darkened at the na. The Stray Dogs were one of the more ruthless gangs in the Northern District—small but vicious, with a reputation for taking what they wanted through force.
"They won't stop," she said, placing a hand on his. "I know you care about this place, Lucas, but this isn't a fight you can win."
Lucas t her gaze, his expression unwavering. "That's where you're wrong. I won't let them take this place. Not while I'm still standing."
Madeline sighed, the weight of years of struggle evident in her eyes. "Just be careful. I already lost too many children to the streets. I won't lose you too."
Lucas stood, a fla burning in his chest.
He had spent his entire life looking after the kids here, playing the role of protector when no one else would.
And now, they needed him more than ever.
As he walked out of the kitchen, he glanced at the children playing in the hallway. Their laughter, their innocence—it was sothing he refused to let anyone take away.
Looking up at the cracked ceiling, he muttered under his breath, "I won't attack but if they attack this place..." Lucas didn't finish before leaving.
Reviews
All reviews (0)