Chapter 19
Folding the last sheet of pink tissue paper over the contents of the gift bag, Elowyn adjusted the corners until everything sat neatly in place. The soft rustle was nearly swallowed by the low hum of the car as she pressed the paper down with careful hands.
Inside rested the crochet octopus she had completed the night before, its rounded head and curled tentacles tucked securely beneath the tissue.
One of her dad's coworkers had asked her a few days earlier if she could make it for his newborn niece and told her he would pay her for it, so she had worked on it each evening until it was finished.
She lifted the bag slightly to make sure nothing shifted too much, then settled it back onto her lap, fingers lingering on the handles.
She hated Ubers.
Hated them.
Sitting in a car with a complete stranger felt fundamentally incorrect, no matter how many five-star ratings blinked reassuringly from the app.
When the car finally slowed to a stop, relief moved through her so quickly it almost made her lightheaded.
"Thank you," she said, already reaching for the handle.
The moment her shoes met the pavement, her shoulders dropped a fraction.
Freedom.
She adjusted her grip on the gift bag and headed inside, pulling her phone from her pocket as she walked toward the elevators.
Better to check.
She tapped her dad's contact and lifted the phone to her ear, listening to the ring.
"Hey, fairy."
"Hey dad, I'm downstairs," she said. "Is it loud up there?"
"Give me a second."
Faint movement sounded through the receiver before his voice returned, more distant now, likely stepping away to listen.
"It's pretty calm up here."
Some of the tightness in her shoulders loosened.
"Okay," she said.
"I'll text you too, just in case something starts up while you're coming."
Her phone buzzed almost immediately after they hung up.
All quiet. You're safe to come up.
Elowyn read the message once more, then pressed the button for the sixth floor. The doors closed with a soft seal as the elevator began its steady ascent.
When they opened again, she stepped out onto the sixth floor, the familiar rhythm of work carrying faintly through the space without overwhelming it.
She adjusted the gift bag in her hand and walked further in, her eyes searching until they landed on a figure she would recognize anywhere.
Her father stood a short distance away, focused on something in front of him, sleeves pushed up slightly as he worked.
"Hey, dad."
Atticus looked up immediately, his expression softening the moment he saw her.
"Well, there she is," he said. "You made it."
She gave a small nod, lifting the bag a fraction.
"Uber."
He huffed quietly, amused. "Survived again, I see."
"Barely."
His mouth twitched, and he reached out briefly, squeezing her shoulder before letting his hand fall away.
Then he gestured past her. "Aaron's been asking about you all morning."
As if summoned, the man glanced over at the sound of his name. His face brightened when he noticed the bag in her hand.
"You're Elowyn, right?"
"Yeah. This is for your niece," she murmured shyly, extending the bag towards the man.
Aaron accepted the bag with surprising care for someone whose hands looked far more accustomed to tools than tissue paper. He peeked inside, pushing the pink paper aside just enough to reveal the octopus.
"That is incredible," he said, shaking his head lightly. "My sister is going to lose her mind over it."
A faint warmth crept into Elowyn's chest, and she shifted her weight.
Aaron reached for his back pocket, already pulling out his wallet.
"Now— how much do I owe you?"
Elowyn shook her head almost immediately. "You don't have to. It's okay."
He paused, glancing toward Atticus before looking back at her.
"Elowyn," he said patiently, "you spent time making this. I'm paying you for it."
"It's really fine," she insisted. "You don't need to."
Aaron studied her for a moment, then gave a small, resigned shrug.
"Alright," he said easily. "I'll just give the money to your dad and have him sneak it in your wallet when you're not looking."
Her head lifted at that.
"You don't have to do that either."
But Aaron was already stepping closer, the wallet still in his hand.
"Too late."
Before she could quite process what he was doing, he slid a few folded bills into the front pocket of her bag, where it sat slightly open.
"Hey—"
"Consider it non-negotiable," he said with a satisfied nod.
She looked down at the pocket, then back up at him.
For a moment, she considered arguing again.
But the quiet certainty on his face made it clear the decision had already been made.
"…Thank you," she said at last, the words reluctant but sincere.
"You're welcome," he replied. "And if you ever start selling, you've got your first repeat customer."
Atticus chuckled under his breath.
"Told you she was talented."
Elowyn resisted the urge to fidget, her fingers instead tightening around the strap of her bag.
Aaron carefully folded the tissue back over the octopus as if it were something fragile, then set the bag aside within easy reach before returning to what he had been doing.
Atticus watched this for a moment, then looked back at Elowyn.
"Keeping me company today?"
Elowyn gave a small nod. That had been the plan. Stand nearby, watch him work, maybe hand him something if he needed it. It was easy being around her father while he worked.
For a moment, the floor remained steady in its usual rhythm.
Then, a metallic crash rang out from deeper on the floor, followed by the scrape of something heavy being dragged. Her spine straightened before she could stop it.
The noise didn't overwhelm the space, but it was no longer distant either.
Atticus's eyes flicked briefly in that direction, then back to her.
"Starting up again," he said.
Elowyn pressed her lips together lightly.
Leaving now meant another Uber. Another car. Another stranger. The thought alone made her hesitate.
"I'm still staying," she said after a moment.
"Just… not on this floor."
Understanding settled easily across his features.
"Where will you be?"
"In the building," she answered. "Call me when you're done, please."
He considered that for half a second, then nodded once.
"I can do that."
Another clang sounded — shorter this time, but sharp enough that her fingers curled lightly into her sleeves.
"Hey," Atticus said gently, drawing her attention back. "It shouldn't go on too long."
"I know."
He studied her one last moment, then reached out, giving her upper arm a brief, steady squeeze before letting go.
"I'll call."
Elowyn nodded, reassured more by the certainty in his tone than the gesture itself. She turned then and headed further down the floor toward the elevators.
The quiet shift from the construction floor faded behind her as Elowyn made her way down the corridor, her steps steady and unhurried.
She stopped just outside the familiar office door, hesitating only briefly.
She said I could come back.... and she's not as scary as before.
Elowyn lifted her hand and knocked lightly.
"Come in."
The response was immediate, smooth, and faintly distracted.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Seraphina sat behind her desk, posture composed, her attention fixed on the computer in front of her, the soft glow reflecting across her features as her eyes moved once more over whatever occupied the screen before finally lifting to meet Elowyn.
A pair of glasses rested low on her nose, delicate frames catching the light as she looked up.
"You’re blind?" Elowyn asked, without thinking.
Seraphina's eyes met hers without surprise, as though Elowyn's presence required no adjustment to the rhythm of the room.
"Well good afternoon, Miss Gray," Seraphina said, her tone slightly teasing.
Elowyn stepped fully inside, easing the door closed behind her before moving a few paces forward.
"Hi," Elowyn answered.
Seraphina saved whatever was open on her screen, then closed the laptop with a soft, controlled motion that shifted her attention completely into the room.
"No," she said at last, reaching up to slide the glasses from her face and set them neatly atop the desk. "I'm not blind, I occasionally use these for reading or when I've been staring at a screen for an unreasonable number of hours."
Elowyn nodded once, accepting this without commentary.
"And you? Are you blind, Miss Gray?"
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
"Contacts?"
"Yes," Elowyn replied again. "They were a mistake."
She made a small face, barely noticeable unless someone was looking for it.
"But I still have, like, a month left of this box," she continued matter-of-factly. "So I'm wearing them until I run out."
Seraphina hummed in acknowledgment.
"Have you visited Floor six?"
Elowyn nodded. "My dad's still working."
"And no unexpected construction today, I hope."
"No," Elowyn said. "I checked first."
"Good."
Elowyn slipped her hand into her pocket, fingers brushing the small shape she had almost forgotten about until that morning.
"I forgot to give you this."
She drew out the interchangeable flower clip and crossed the remaining distance to the desk, grabbing the light pink pen.
"It goes with the pen. You can switch them out."
Seraphina's eyes lowered to the girl's hands, watching as she struggled to take off the existing clip.
"Would you like some help?"
"No, I got it," Elowyn replied, her voice slightly strained from the effort she was putting into trying to get the clip off, "It just takes a second sometimes."
Seraphina sat back, getting increasingly amused by the girl's struggle, who seemed to notice the woman's stare as she suddenly turned to face the opposite direction.
After almost an entire minute, Elowyn threw her head back and let out a dramatic huff, finally deciding to yield.
She lowered her head and shamefully turned back to face the woman, whose hand was now covering her mouth, trying to hold in her laughter.
"Can you just... you know?" Elowyn mumbled, sliding the pen back on the desk.
Deciding to spare the girl from further embarrassment, Seraphina bit back any comments she desperately wanted to make and slid the flower clip off the pen with her thumb.
It detached effortlessly.
"I—you—" Elowyn stuttered. "This is rigged!" She finally was able to get out, stomping her foot slightly.
Seraphina let out a low, genuine laugh.
The sound only made Elowyn narrow her eyes further.
"You did that on purpose," she accused.
"Of course," Seraphina replied sarcastically, adjusting the new clip into place with deliberate precision. "I sabotaged the mechanism earlier, hoping for this exact outcome."
Elowyn crossed her arms.
"Are you mocking me?"
"I'm enjoying you," Seraphina corrected.
Elowyn's expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she looked away again, ears tinting pink.
"It wasn't that funny."
"It was," Seraphina said gently. "You were wrestling it like it had personally offended you."
"It did," Elowyn muttered.
Seraphina's expression softened now, though the amusement hadn't entirely faded.
"Thank you," she added, nodding toward the pen. "It's thoughtful."
Elowyn shifted slightly at that, the defensiveness draining from her posture.
"It matches better," she said. "The other one was too plain."
"Mm." Seraphina turned the pen slowly between her fingers, studying the small, now glittery flower.
"The shimmer is difficult to ignore," Seraphina said, studying the way the light moved across the petals.
"It's cheerful."
"It's distracting."
"It's inspiring," Elowyn said. "Glitter makes everything better."
"Everything?"
"Yes. It makes things less serious and boring."
Seraphina glanced up briefly. "My desk was boring?"
"Very."
"And now?"
"Now it has personality."
Seraphina studied the pen again, then set it down with measured care.
"I'll attempt to endure the personality."
Elowyn smiled, satisfied.
The girl seemed more at ease around her now, and Seraphina registered it without comment.
"Your father was here since early morning. Did you drive here yourself?"
"I took an Uber."
"I don't like them, though," Elowyn admitted. "Statistically speaking, I probably could have died."
That piqued Seraphina's interest.
"Statistically?"
"The odds of dying in a car crash are about one in five thousand," Elowyn said. "Shark attacks are closer to one in eleven million. People still swim in the ocean without thinking twice, but getting into a car is somehow considered normal."
Seraphina raised a perfectly shaped
brow.
"And yet you chose the car."
"I needed to deliver something upstairs," Elowyn said. "A crochet octopus."
"And you were compensated, I hope."
"Forcefully."
"You should always accept payment for your work."
Elowyn gave a slight nod, though whether she agreed was less certain.
Seraphina's eyes lingered for a moment before she asked lightly, "You don't drive?"
"No, I never learned," Elowyn considered her next words, "I was kind of advised that it wouldn't be wise for me to do so. But I did try once."
"And how did that go?"
Elowyn thought back to the day Daniel and William had tried to teach her. She'd spent half of it with her eyes closed, Daniel lunging for the wheel in open panic, and William in the backseat smiling into his camera while the disaster unfolded behind him.
That had been an empty parking lot. She had no desire to introduce traffic into the equation.
"I was removed from the driver's seat," Elowyn answered.
"And no second attempt was made?" Seraphina smiled.
"Nope." Elowyn shook her head. "It was probably for the best. I only wanted to see if I could. If I'd gotten used to it, I think I would've been disappointed."
"Why is that?"
"I don't do well with loud noises or bright lights. Sirens. Flashing lights. Things like that." She paused briefly. "My doctors don't think I'll be able to stay calm if something like that happens while I'm driving."
Seraphina gave a small, approving nod. "Then it was the right call."
"Will you sit, or are you only passing through?" Seraphina asked after a moment.
"I can stay for a bit. I told my dad I'd still be in the building."
Seraphina's fingers brushed the edge of the desk as she observed the girl, her voice calm but carrying the faintest lilt of invitation. "Then sit," she said, eyes tracing Elowyn's movements. "The chair across from me is yours."
Elowyn moved toward the chair without hesitation this time and sat, placing her hands neatly in her lap. From this angle, her attention drifted across the desk — orderly as always — and paused on a takeout container pushed slightly to the side, lid closed with a plastic fork resting atop it.
It was empty.
She looked back up.
"Do people usually eat in their offices?" she asked.
Seraphina followed her line of sight briefly before answering.
"Some do. Most go downstairs."
"Downstairs?"
"There's a cafeteria on the first floor."
"Oh. I've never seen it."
"You've never needed to."
After a moment, Seraphina opened her laptop and navigated through a few windows before turning the screen toward her.
A wide, structured space filled the display — long tables arranged with deliberate spacing, tall windows lining one wall, a serving counter set along the back. The lighting was even and bright without being harsh.
Elowyn leaned forward slightly in her chair, studying the image without speaking at first.
"What do they serve?" she asked.
"Lunch rotates daily," Seraphina replied. "Hot meals. Salads. Sandwiches."
Elowyn's eyes moved slowly from one end of the image to the other, absorbing the layout before settling back into her seat.
"Do they have snacks too?" Elowyn asked.
"Snacks?"
"Yeah, you know, like uh– chips or cookies. Maybe some granola bars for the healthy people."
"Healthy people," Seraphina repeated, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly at the phrasing.
She glanced back at the screen once more as if confirming something she already knew.
"No," she said at last. "We don't."
Her tone was smooth, unbothered — the kind of answer that suggested the absence had never been considered a flaw.
Elowyn stared at her as though she had just admitted to being a murderer.
Seraphina's attention shifted to her instead, taking in the way Elowyn had gone completely still.
"You look concerned," she observed.
Elowyn's brows had drawn together in quiet disbelief.
"No snacks?" she said, as if clarifying a confession.
"No chips," Seraphina replied evenly. "No cookies. No granola bars for the seemingly morally superior."
Elowyn continued to look at her as though she had just admitted to something deeply unsettling.
"That's…" she paused, searching for the correct word. "…cruel."
"You're cruel," Elowyn added.
Seraphina studied her for a long moment, expression steady and unhurried.
The girl looked entirely sincere.
"You're attributing malice to a menu," she said at last, voice smooth. "That's ambitious."
"You don't have snacks," Elowyn replied. "That feels intentional."
A faint shift touched Seraphina's expression — not denial or an apology.
"You should be careful making assumptions about my intentions, Miss Gray," she said, almost lazily.
Seraphina crossed one leg over the other, the movement slow and deliberate.
"If I ever decide to be cruel," she said calmly, "I promise it won't involve snacks."
Elowyn blinked.
"I still think you should add them somewhere."
Seraphina studied her slowly, taking in the girl's determination.
"Is that your final verdict?"
"Yes, people work better with snacks. Don't you want your employees to be good workers?"
Seraphina once again found herself desperately trying to hold in her laughter as the girl so fiercely maintained her stance, as if compromise had never been an option.
"My employees work just fine," she responded, deciding to keep the banter going.
"They could be working better," Elowyn huffed, "And they'd probably like you more too."
"So getting snacks makes people like you?"
"Well, yeah." Elowyn shrugged.
"So then tell me," Seraphina said, her tone lowering slightly, "what are your favorite treats, Elowyn?"
The girl thought for a while before finally speaking.
"If you're considering for the employees, you should have a variety."
"Ahh, now there needs to be a variety."
"Yup," Elowyn nodded, "because, for example, one might like something salty, but someone else might prefer sweet...."
Seraphina simply watched the girl, taking in how she moved her hands, gesturing in the air as she spoke. How her brows slightly furrowed while explaining, making her look... adorable.
"...and you...you give me like trail mix kind of vibes."
"Trail mix?" Seraphina let out a quiet laugh. "Why do you say that?"
"Um… well, older people usually like those," Elowyn said, tilting her head slightly.
Seraphina narrowed her eyes at the girl. "How old do you think I am?"
"You're like thirty-something, I think," Elowyn replied casually.
"Thirty-two. And is that now considered old?"
Elowyn paused, thinking. "Well… your year starts with nineteen, right?"
Seraphina studied her, If anyone else had said that, she would have been annoyed, maybe even slightly offended. But with Elowyn, she couldn't even bring herself to rebuke the question as the girl sat across from her, asking it so innocently.
"Nineteen," she repeated quietly. "Yes. It does."
"So you like trail mix," Elowyn said, tilting her head again.
No longer being able to hold it in, Seraphina dropped her head in her hands, her shoulders slightly shaking as she silently laughed.
"No, Elowyn, I don't like trail mix," the woman said between laughs.
"Oh."
"And how did you find out that I'm ‘thirty-something'? I don't recall sharing that information with you."
"William googled you," Elowyn said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"William?"
"He's my best friend. He googled you after you told me I could come back and finish the bookshelf, and a picture came up with you in it. It said your age."
"You sent your best friend to investigate me?"
"No, he did it on his own. He was freaking out about the whole thing. Running around my room screaming and telling me all about some sort of plans," Elowyn said, confusion clear on her face.
"Plans? Should I be concerned?"
"I don't think so," Elowyn said earnestly. "He was just talking about forest creatures and ‘mommy codes.'"
Seraphina became still, her posture subtly shifting.
"Forest creatures," she repeated, voice smooth.
Her attention sharpened as she studied Elowyn more carefully.
"And I assume," she continued evenly, "I'm not the forest creature."
"No. That's me," Elowyn answered without hesitation.
"I see," Seraphina said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "And the… ‘mommy codes'?"
Elowyn thought for a moment. "I don't actually know what that means," she admitted. "He just said you were that."
Silence settled for half a second.
Seraphina crossed her arms slowly, one brow lifting. "Did he," she murmured, "and what do you make of his assessments?"
"I don't agree with him," Elowyn said after a moment.
"No?" the older woman asked, voice calm. "For what reason?"
Elowyn lifted her chin slightly as though preparing a formal defense.
"Because I'm not a forest creature."
Seraphina considered her for a long moment, expression unreadable.
"Miss Gray," she said finally, "you materialized in a coffee shop I've frequented for years. You glare at fluorescent lighting and collect pens with floral attachments.
Elowyn opened her mouth.
"You say outrageous things with complete sincerity, smile like you're keeping secrets, and tilt your head as though you're plotting something you fully intend to get away with," Seraphina continued evenly. "You also apparently bite people at your own discretion."
"It wasn't even that hard," Elowyn muttered.
Seraphina raised a brow.
"My point," she said after a moment, "is that if you are not a forest creature, you are at the very least… adjacent to folklore."
Elowyn made a startled noise before dissolving into a small, uncontrollable laugh, shoulders curling inward as if she could physically contain it.
"I am not folklore," she insisted through the remnants of her laughter.
Seraphina observed the shift with calm attention.
Elowyn's eyes squinted as she laughed, her nose scrunching, dimples carving deeper into her cheeks.
Her teeth were small and even. The canines longer than the rest, pointed at the tips, and when she tried to suppress another smile, they pressed into her lower lip just enough to leave a pale indentation.
It was an oddly delicate detail.
Mischief, in miniature.
"Well," Seraphina said at last, voice quieter now, thoughtful, "you certainly look the part."
"I do not," Elowyn said defensively.
"I'm afraid you do, sweetheart." Seraphina tilted her head slightly, a teasing pout touching her lips. "The freckles. That tiny nose. Your ears." A soft hum threaded through her words. "All very fairy-like."
Without thinking, Elowyn reached up and tugged a section of her hair forward, letting it fall over her ears.
Seraphina’s eyes returned to Elowyn's. "Cute," she added deliberately.
"I'm not cute," Elowyn said, feeling her face heat up. "That term is used for children."
"Then how would you describe yourself, hmm?"
"I don't know, but I'm not cute."
"Whatever you say."
Elowyn paused for half a second, then narrowed her eyes slightly. "…So is that still a no on the snacks?"
Seraphina's lips curved in a small smile.
"You're remarkably persistent."
"It doesn't have to be in the cafeteria,"
Elowyn said, leaning forward slightly. "It could just be a vending machine. That way, people don't have to stand in line. They can grab something quickly and go."
Seraphina's fingers drummed lightly on the armrest as she considered it.
"And where, exactly, would you install this revolutionary addition?" she asked finally.
"Outside the cafeteria," Elowyn answered immediately, pointing vaguely toward the door as if the first floor were visible through the wall.
"Right by the entrance. So people can stop without having to walk all the way in."
Seraphina followed the gesture, imagining the location.
Her attention returned to Elowyn, who sat patiently, watching for a response.
"You've thought this through."
"I think about important things," Elowyn replied.
A quiet breath escaped Seraphina.
"It's not a terrible idea."
Elowyn's eyes brightened, though she tried to hide it.
"You're very comfortable redesigning my building," Seraphina observed.
"You asked."
Seraphina let out a teasing roll of her eyes, the corners of her lips lifting into a sly grin.
"I'll have facilities look into it," she said smoothly.
Elowyn nodded, satisfied.
Seraphina rested her chin lightly against her knuckles, studying the young girl — her stubbornness, her sincerity, the gravity she had placed on the snack debate.
It wasn't really about snacks.
It was about noticing something small and deciding it could be better.
Most people waited for permission.
Elowyn just suggested it and expected to be taken seriously.
And Seraphina found, unexpectedly, that she didn't mind one bit.