Chapter 171
Ellie's POV
The email notification pinged at 4:47 PM, just as the library's afternoon light was starting to fade into that peculiar golden hour that made everything look softer than it actually was. I'd been hunched over my laptop for six straight hours—the network could wait for one evening—and my shoulders screamed in protest as I straightened to check my phone.
From: Roberto Martinez ([email protected])
Subject: Cedar Health Center Project - Final Acceptance
Dear Miss Green,
I am pleased to inform you that the security certification module has passed our final review with flying colors. Your deployment timeline was impeccable, and more importantly, Miss Lily Parker's presentation skills transformed what could have been a tedious technical rollout into something our entire board actually understood.
Please find attached the electronic payment authorization for $20,000 as agreed. Miss Parker's ability to explain complex authentication protocols in plain English—comparing encryption layers to "locking multiple doors with different keys that only the right person has"—was genuinely impressive. She fielded questions from our least tech-savvy board member with patience I didn't know existed in college students.
We will certainly keep your team in mind for future projects.
Best regards,
Sophia
I stared at the email, then at the attached PDF of the electronic check. For a project I'd barely touched recently after handing off the client-facing work entirely to Lily.
My first reaction wasn't celebration. It was guilt.
She carried this entire thing, I thought, scrolling back through my calendar. Four video conferences where Lily had walked the Martinez team through security protocols while I was buried in encrypted communication frameworks for the pack. Three rounds of requirement clarifications she'd handled via email while I was learning to fight in Miles's basement. Two live technical demonstrations where she'd answered rapid-fire questions about authentication flows while I'd been… gods, where had I even been? Training with Jackson to survive Caleb's potential attacks? Meeting with the Council about the dark web prototype?
Lily had done everything except write the backend code. And even that—she'd caught two critical bugs in my hasty documentation because she'd actually tested the deployment while I was too scattered to remember basic quality assurance.
Seventy percent wasn't just fair. It was owed.
I packed up my laptop in record time, printer-fresh check in hand, and made a beeline for the campus admin building before it closed. The ancient laser printer in the business office spit out the paper version with grudging cooperation, and I carefully wrote out the split on a notecard I'd grabbed from the library:
Project Compensation Distribution:
Total: $20,000
Lily Parker: $14,000 (70%) - Client management, presentations, demos, QA
Ellie Green: $6,000 (30%) - Backend development, technical support
I stared at my handwriting. Even seeing it in black and white, the split felt inadequate. Lily had saved my ass. She'd trusted me enough to take on work she'd never done before, in front of actual corporate executives, while I'd been juggling pack politics and secret identities like some kind of supernatural circus act.
She deserves more than money. Gratitude. Recognition.
"I know," I whispered, tucking the check and notecard into an envelope.
The convenience store near the dorms had Lily's favorite matcha latte in the cold case—the fancy brand with real ceremonial-grade powder that cost twice as much as normal drinks. I grabbed two, plus a box of sakura mochi that I knew she hoarded like dragon treasure because they reminded her of visiting her grandmother in Kyoto.
Walking back to Dorm 304, I rehearsed what I'd say. Not the transactional "here's your money" approach, but something real. Thank you for believing in me when I couldn't explain why I needed help. Thank you for being brilliant and brave when I was drowning in things I couldn't tell you about. Thank you for being the kind of friend who doesn't ask why, just asks how she can help.
My phone buzzed with a text from Jackson:
Jackson: How'd the library exile go? Did you remember to eat?
Me: Survived. Project payment came through—about to surprise Lily with her share. Picked up matcha and mochi as a thank-you.
Jackson: That's my girl. She earned it. See you tonight?
Me: Absolutely. Miss you.
Jackson: Miss you more. Be safe.
I smiled despite the exhaustion, despite everything. Jackson's steady presence in my life—the way he got the balancing act without making me explain every detail—was its own kind of magic.
The hallway of Dorm 304 was quieter than usual for a Thursday evening. Most people were either at dinner or the library, cramming for midterms or procrastinating with Netflix. I fumbled for my key, drinks and pastry box balanced precariously in one hand, mentally running through my speech one more time.
Lily, you absolutely saved this project. I can't thank you enough for—
The door swung open before my key even touched the lock.
The smile I'd prepared froze on my face.
Something was wrong.
The curtains were drawn tight despite the beautiful evening light outside, leaving the room dim except for Lily's desk lamp casting harsh shadows. The air felt thick, stale—like the windows hadn't been opened in days. And Lily—
Lily was pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, in yesterday's wrinkled gray CVU hoodie, her usually neat hair a tangled mess. Her phone was clutched in both hands, knuckles white, and she was biting her nails—something she only did when completely overwhelmed.
The careful balance of drinks and mochi suddenly felt absurd. This wasn't a celebration. This was a crisis.
"Lily?" I tried, voice soft.
No response. She just kept pacing, that same tight three-step loop between her bed and desk, chewing her thumbnail raw.
"Lily!" Louder this time.
She spun around, and my breath caught. Her eyes were bloodshot, makeup smeared down her cheeks in tear tracks. Fresh tears welled up the moment she saw me, spilling over as her whole face crumpled.
"Ellie…" Her voice cracked. "Oh god, you're finally here… I… I don't know what to do…"
I dropped everything. The matcha lattes hit the floor with dull thuds, lids popping off and sending pale green liquid across the tile. The mochi box tumbled after them. The check and my carefully written note scattered somewhere near my feet.
None of it mattered.
I crossed the room in three strides and grabbed Lily's shoulders. She was shaking—fine tremors running through her whole body, her skin fever-hot under my palms.