The Bigshot's Superstar Wife - Chapter 157

Chapter 157: The Orphanage
Athena dressed in a plain white blouse and faded jeans, choosing comfort over style. She tied her hair in a loose ponytail and grabbed her car keys.

The morning air was brisk, and the roads were unusually quiet as she drove through the quiet streets of Zumera’s suburbs.

The farther she traveled from the bustling city center, the more worn-down the surroundings became. Cracked pavements, rusting fences, and abandoned shops lined the streets.

When she finally reached the orphanage, Athena’s heart sank. The building looked nothing like the warm and inviting photo she had seen online.

Instead, the structure before her seemed barely capable of standing. The once-white walls were cracked and faded, stained with water marks and patches of mold.

The roof was crooked, with missing shingles leaving dark gaps like broken teeth.

The playground outside was rusted, and the swings creaked faintly in the breeze, hanging lifelessly on frayed chains.

Athena stepped out of her car and approached the front gate. The iron bars were bent, and the paint had peeled off long ago.

Pushing the gate open, she walked toward the building, feeling an eerie stillness hanging in the air. Inside, the hallway smelled musty, like damp wood and forgotten memories.

The walls were covered in peeling wallpaper, faded murals of cartoon animals barely visible through the grime. The floor groaned under her steps.

A thin boy, no older than eight, peeked out from one of the rooms. His oversized shirt clung to his bony frame, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days.

Seeing Athena, he ducked back inside.

“Wait,” Athena called softly, but the boy had already vanished.

Moments later, a tired-looking woman emerged, a volunteer, she guessed. Her wrinkled apron was stained, and dark circles shadowed her eyes.

“Are you here to donate?” the woman asked, her voice hopeful but weak.

Athena shook her head. “I’m here to see the headmaster.”

The woman’s expression fell. “The headmaster passed away last week… heart attack.” She sighed, glancing toward a room filled with scattered toys and old blankets.

“No one’s managing this place right now. The older kids left, and the younger ones… well, they’re doing their best to survive.”

Athena clenched her fists. How could this place be left like this?

“I want to help,” she said firmly. “I’ll take over the orphanage.”

The volunteer’s eyes widened. “You… you mean it?”

Athena nodded. “I’ll call my lawyer.”

She stepped outside and dialed her attorney. Within minutes, she was in the process of arranging the necessary paperwork.

She knew it wouldn’t be instant, but she was determined to see it through. When Athena returned inside, she took a closer look at the children who still remained.

In the kitchen, a young girl barely tall enough to reach the counter struggled to wash dishes with cold, murky water. Her hands were raw and red.

A pair of brothers, twins with dirt-streaked faces, were trying to fix a broken table with nails they’d scavenged from the walls.

They whispered to each other, afraid to make too much noise.

In the far corner, a small group of children huddled together on a worn-out blanket. They shared a half-eaten loaf of bread, breaking off tiny pieces so everyone had something.

There were no clean clothes, no fresh food, and barely enough blankets for the cold nights.

The air inside was stale, and the children’s faces were pale, their eyes hollow from hunger and exhaustion.

Athena’s heart ached at the sight. This place shouldn’t have been forgotten. These children shouldn’t have been left to fend for themselves.

The lawyer called back later that evening to inform her that the registration documents could be processed within two days.

Relieved, Athena promised herself that she wouldn’t let the orphanage stay in this condition for long.

That night, she returned home and spent hours writing lists of supplies, fresh food, clothing, medicine, and blankets.

She contacted a construction company to assess the building’s stability and repair the broken walls and roof.

She even reached out to a few local volunteers to help provide meals while the repairs were underway.

Two days later, the paperwork was finalized, and Athena officially became the orphanage’s caretaker.

When she returned to the building that morning, she was greeted by curious stares from the children.

Some looked hopeful, while others seemed wary, as if expecting her to disappear just like everyone else had.

“I’m Athena,” she introduced herself, kneeling so she could speak at eye level with the smallest children. “I’m going to make sure you’re all taken care of.”

The youngest child, a little girl with tangled hair and wide brown eyes, tugged at Athena’s sleeve.

“Are you going to leave too?” the girl asked quietly.

Athena’s chest tightened. “No,” she promised. “I’m staying.”

It wasn’t easy to rebuild the orphanage. Workers came and went, and cleaning up the filth-stained walls took longer than expected.

The building had rotting wood beneath the floors and leaky pipes that needed replacing. But Athena refused to back down.

She spent her mornings helping the children, organizing their meals, and ensuring they had warm clothes.

In the afternoons, she managed the repairs and coordinated supply deliveries. At night, she collapsed into bed, exhausted but determined.

The children slowly began to trust her. The twin boys who once kept to themselves started following her around, eager to help.

The shy girl from the kitchen smiled more often, and the younger children laughed as they played with the new toys Athena had provided.

Within weeks, the orphanage transformed. Fresh paint covered the walls, new beds replaced the worn-out mattresses, and the shelves were stocked with food and supplies.

The once-lonely building now buzzed with life, filled with laughter and warmth.

Athena felt a strange sense of fulfillment, a warmth in her chest that reminded her of something… or someone. The feeling was familiar, like a memory lingering just out of reach.

One evening, as Athena prepared to leave for the night, the same little girl who had asked if she would leave approached her again.

“You’re like a hero,” the child whispered, clutching a small, hand-sewn doll. “Like the people in stories.”

Athena smiled softly and knelt to her level. “I’m just someone who wants to help.”

The little girl tilted her head. “But you have magic… don’t you?”

Athena blinked in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

The child pointed to her wrist. “I saw the crown glow once. When you were fixing the lights.”

Athena touched the tattoo on her wrist. The faint warmth returned, gentle and comforting.

“I don’t know,” Athena admitted. “Maybe I do.”

But one thing was certain, she wasn’t done helping yet.

The orphanage was only the beginning.