Falling For My Billionaire Savior - Chapter 61: Chapter 61

Nadia was usually a woman of few words, but now she was nagging. I knew she meant well, so I bundled myself up tightly and headed out.
My bodyguard was waiting outside the door. He froze for a moment upon seeing me, then fought back a smile and asked, "Madam, where are we going now?"
I replied, "Ashvale Home for Children."
He nodded. "Got it."
The car drove toward the orphanage. A gentle breeze drifted through the open windows, softly brushing against my face, soothing and comfortable.
Following Nadia's instructions, the bodyguard didn't turn on the air conditioning. He just opened the windows to let the natural air flow in, saying it was better for me.
The moment I sat in the car, I pulled off the scarf wrapping my head. I'd rather endure a headache or whatever in the future than suffocate under all those layers.
When we arrived at the orphanage, the courtyard was utterly silent—not a single person in sight.
I stepped out of the car and stood in the middle of the yard, gazing at the familiar buildings. My mother's words echoed in my mind. "The greatest joy for a person isn't how much they gain, but the happiness they find in helping others."
Since childhood, my mother had often brought me here, sharing treats and toys with the children at the orphanage. And through that, I truly experienced joy.
Now, standing here again, I was flooded with complex feelings.
My mom instilled in me a strong sense of kindness, yet she forgot to teach me about the darker side of human nature. I was so easily fooled by Oliver, and that was partly Mom's fault too.
Such thoughts felt unbearably guilty. As soon as they surfaced, I pinched myself hard to snap out of it. How could I think like that? If Mom knew, she'd be heartbroken.
Shaking off those messy thoughts, I walked toward the director's office. Along the familiar path, I arrived at the office and knocked gently on the door.
"Come in," a voice replied, and I froze. It wasn't the director's voice. The director was a kindly old woman with a gentle smile, but this voice was definitely a man's.
I figured Marlee must be out, so I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Behind the desk sat a man in his thirties. He was repairing a toy broken by one of the children.
The room was just as I remembered it. It had been three years since I last came, but nothing had changed. A row of bookshelves lined the wall, an office desk was worn from decades of use, and two chairs were placed for the visitors.
There was no other furniture in the office. The setup was the same, only older and dustier.
"May I help you?" the man asked, his face lighting up with a wide smile. He looked pure-hearted and kind.
I replied, "I'm here to see the director."
"I am the director."
"Huh?" His answer startled me, and I added, "Where's Marlee?"
"She passed away a year ago—suffered a heart attack and didn't make it. Were you one of the children who grew up here?" asked him.
He invited me to sit down and poured a cup of hot water. "Please, have some water."
My eyes grew wet. I hadn't expected the kind and gentle Marlee to be gone.
I fought back the tears, replying, "No, I'm not an orphan. I just want to do something good to build some merit for myself. I actually came to donate."
The man nodded. "Oh, I see. Thank you, ma'am. Please wait a moment. I'll get the accountant, so she can prepare a receipt for you."
"No rush on the receipt," I said. "I want to know, since the new director took over, is financial transparency maintained? How can I be sure that the money I donate really goes to the children?"