The sun rose gently over the city, casting golden hues over Cristina's Corner. A soft breeze fluttered the curtains, and the café's warmth welcomed a line of customers outside before it even opened. Eira, sipping her coffee behind the counter, smiled with pride. The once-empty café now buzzed with life—guitar tunes in the background, light chatter, and the comforting aroma of roasted beans.
Cristina stood in the middle of it all, her face glowing with happiness. "Can you believe this is real?"
"You earned it," Auren said, leaning against the counter beside Eira. "We just helped show the world."
But not everyone shared in the joy. Across the street, Vanessa watched from behind tinted windows, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping angrily against a porcelain mug. Cristina's success gnawed at her, slowly but surely. She had spent years building her boutique's name. And now, that tiny café was becoming the talk of the town?
Something had to be done.
---
A week passed. Cristina's smile dimmed.
The café's sudden popularity had drawn scrutiny. Rumors began to spread. Some claimed Cristina copied her menu from bigger chains. Others whispered she was exploiting her friends' fame for attention. Online reviews tanked overnight, all from newly made accounts.
Cristina sat behind the counter, pale and shaking, clutching her phone. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she read the hateful comments.
When Eira, Auren, Ryan, and Loira arrived that evening, they were stunned to find the café empty and Cristina curled up on a stool, eyes red.
"What happened?" Eira rushed to her.
Cristina handed her the phone. "They're destroying me. I don't even know who... or why."
Auren looked grim. "We're going to find out."
Ryan and Loira immediately began digging through the fake reviews, tracing email addresses and social handles. Auren contacted a tech-savvy classmate to trace IPs. In just a day, a pattern emerged.
All signs pointed back to Vanessa.
They made a plan.
Loira arranged for a well-known food critic to visit Cristina's café anonymously. Eira scheduled a live stream of Cristina baking and serving with her usual kindness. Meanwhile, Ryan and Auren confronted Vanessa in her boutique—with evidence.
Vanessa's eyes widened when Auren placed the file on her desk.
"You've been targeting her," Auren said, calm but firm.
"You should be ashamed," Ryan added. "Cristina's building something beautiful. And you tried to ruin it because of jealousy?"
Vanessa faltered. Her defenses cracked, and finally, tears welled in her eyes. "I... I was scared. That I'd be forgotten. That my shop would fade away."
There was a long silence.
"You still have time to make things right," Eira said gently from the doorway.
Vanessa apologized to Cristina in front of a full café the next morning. The customers clapped, and Cristina, though hesitant, accepted it.
A strange peace settled.
---
Later that week, Ryan clapped his hands together during lunch. "You know what we all need? A break."
"A trip," Loira agreed.
Auren and Eira exchanged amused glances.
"Where to?" Auren asked.
Ryan grinned. "I found a perfect place. A cabin near both the mountains and the beach. Secluded. Peaceful."
"Sounds dreamy," Eira said.
They booked the cabin that same night and packed up. By the time they arrived, the stress of the past weeks already began to melt away. The salty breeze from the sea mixed with the crisp mountain air. Birds chirped, and waves crashed gently in the distance.
They explored, laughed, cooked meals together, and sang horribly off-key karaoke in the living room. Everything was perfect.
Until they met the old man.
It was during a morning walk when they stumbled upon him, hunched over in front of a wooden fruit stall. He looked frail, his clothes faded. Eira greeted him kindly and offered to buy some fruit. The old man refused money, instead inviting them for tea.
His home was small but filled with warmth. There, they met his grandson—only seven, with sunken cheeks and tired eyes. He smiled weakly at them.
"He's sick," the old man admitted. "But I can't afford proper medicine."
The group shared glances. They didn't hesitate. Eira handed him a folded envelope with some cash. Loira added hers. Ryan promised to look into a local doctor. The old man tried to protest but eventually gave them a teary-eyed thank you. He served them stale biscuits and watery tea as gratitude.
That night, long after they'd gone to sleep, they were awakened by loud knocks.
The old man stood outside their cabin, his face pale with panic. In his arms was the boy.
"He's not breathing!"
Auren took the child immediately, checking his pulse. "He's alive, but weak. We need a hospital. Now."
"There's no time for an ambulance!" Ryan shouted. "I'll carry him."
With the old man beside them, Auren and Ryan rushed through the streets until they reached the town's small hospital.
Inside, the doctor barely looked up.
"We're full. Come back in the morning."
"Are you serious?" Auren asked. "He needs help now!"
The doctor sneered. "You think we help beggars first?"
Ryan's patience snapped. He grabbed the man by the collar. "You call yourself a doctor?"
Eira and Loira arrived just in time, out of breath. Eira stepped between them.
"We'll pay. Every penny. Just help him."
The doctor huffed but relented. Another nurse—a kind-eyed woman—took the boy in. Auren stayed beside him.
"He'll be okay now," the nurse assured.
They waited for hours. Morning sunlight filtered through the hospital windows when the doctor finally emerged.
"He's stable. It was close. You brought him just in time."
The old man collapsed into a chair, sobbing.
Later that day, the group sat outside the hospital with the old man and his grandson, who was now sleeping peacefully.
"You saved him," the old man whispered. "I don't have anything to give you..."
"You gave us something," Eira said with a gentle smile. "A reason to believe the world still needs kindness."
---
They returned to the cabin in silence, not out of sorrow, but deep reflection. That night, the group stayed up late on the beach, lighting a small bonfire. The stars shimmered above like quiet witnesses to the bond that had formed among them.
Auren sat beside Eira, the flickering firelight casting soft shadows on their faces.
"Do you ever wonder," he said, voice low, "why people who have so little are often the ones who give the most?"
Eira nodded. "Because they know what it means to have nothing."
She looked at him then. Really looked. He seemed distant again, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. But when he met her gaze, the sadness melted, if only for a moment.
Ryan came over with Loira. "We should do something for them. Maybe set up a fundraiser when we return."
"We will," Auren promised. "We owe them that much."
As the fire burned low and the ocean whispered against the shore, they sat close, sharing stories, laughter, and an unspoken understanding that their lives had changed.
And the trip, though not yet over, had already become unforgettable.