When Olivia reached the breakroom, it was pleasantly calm.

  Only three or four Hosts lingered over dinner, their conversations low and unhurried. Charles and Miss LaDonna sat together at the far end of the long table, tea and wine glasses within easy reach. The buffet line was still set up—and still impressive—but now it held proper dinner fare. Rich sauces, roasted vegetables that actually looked alive, fragrant grains, and things she couldn’t quite identify but trusted implicitly.

  No rubbery chicken. No sad green beans.

  “Thank the Signal,” she murmured, grabbing a plate.

  She exchanged a few quiet hellos, filled her plate with care, and slid into her usual seat.

  Miss LaDonna smiled at her immediately. “Did you enjoy your afternoon, dear? I trust you found something pleasant to occupy yourself?”

  Olivia opened her mouth to answer—

  “—Aside from flashing the maintenance crew, of course,” Charles added smoothly, without looking up from his glass.

  There it was.

  Olivia froze.

  Then her face went incandescent.

  “I did not—!” she protested, ears burning, tail flicking in embarrassment. “I mean— I didn’t mean to— the robe— I was exploring!”

  A couple of Hosts snickered softly.

  Miss LaDonna lifted a brow, amused but kind. “Exploring can be… enlightening.”

  Charles grinned over the rim of his glass. “One does learn where not to wander unclothed.”

  Olivia buried her face in her hands for a second, then peeked out, laughing despite herself. “I didn’t know there were goblins living up there!”

  “Oh yes,” Miss LaDonna said serenely. “And they are extremely off duty on weekends.”

  Charles nodded. “Best left undisturbed. Particularly when cards are involved.”

  Olivia sighed, shaking her head, but the embarrassment was already fading—replaced by the familiar warmth of belonging. She took a bite of her dinner and smiled.

  “Other than that,” she said, recovering, “I had a really good day.”

  Miss LaDonna reached over and squeezed her hand gently. “I’m glad.”

  Charles raised his glass slightly. “To successful Saturdays. And lessons learned.”

  Olivia lifted her fork in mock salute. “Next time,” she said firmly, “I’m wearing pants.”

  Laughter rippled softly around the table as dinner continued—easy, comfortable, and exactly where it should be.

  Dinner settled into an easy rhythm again, plates slowly emptying as conversation drifted and circled. Charles mentioned—far too casually—that he’d make a proper introduction to the maintenance crew next week.

  “When they’re actually on duty,” he added smoothly, “and when you are… appropriately dressed.”

  Olivia’s ears went warm immediately.

  “I was dressed,” she protested weakly. “Mostly.”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Miss LaDonna smiled into her glass. “Mostly is doing a great deal of work in that sentence, dear.”

  That earned another round of gentle laughter, and once Olivia recovered enough to take another bite, a thought occurred to her.

  “Can I ask something else?” she said. “How many goblins actually live at the station? And the sprites? And… I guess… how many people live here, total?”

  Charles paused mid-chew, genuinely considering it.

  “Hm,” he said. “Good question.”

  He glanced at Miss LaDonna. “Darling?”

  Miss LaDonna reached into a pocket of her jacket and produced a tiny notebook—clearly well-loved—and flipped through it with practiced ease.

  “Let’s see,” she murmured. “Currently living on-site…”

  She tapped the page lightly with a finger as she read.

  “Fourteen goblins, assorted,” she said.

  “Seventy-three sprites.”

  “One witch—yours truly.”

  “One Archivore.”

  “At least twenty-two ghosts, though the exact number fluctuates.”

  “And one raccoon. Richard.”

  She snapped the notebook shut and looked up. “That should be everyone residing here at present.”

  Olivia stared.

  “…That’s,” she said slowly, “a lot more people than I thought.”

  Charles smiled, fond and a little proud. “The station has a way of collecting those who need it—and those who help it run.”

  Miss LaDonna nodded. “You’ll find it’s never quite as empty as it looks.”

  Olivia glanced around the breakroom, suddenly seeing it differently—not as a workplace with a few odd residents, but as a community. A strange one, certainly, but warm. Alive.

  “Guess I really did move into a full house,” she said.

  Charles lifted his glass again. “Welcome home, Olivia.”

  And for the first time, the word didn’t feel like an exaggeration at all.

  Olivia lingered at the table after dinner, helping herself to the last sip of tea, already feeling that pleasant, heavy warmth that meant sleep wouldn’t be far behind. She was just about to excuse herself and head upstairs when Charles cleared his throat.

  “Oh—before you turn in,” he said casually, as if mentioning the weather, “if you’d like to do any shopping tomorrow, it would be an excellent day for it. Just let me know where you’d like to go and I’ll… provide transportation.”

  Olivia blinked. “That’s really sweet, but—” she hesitated, eyes dropping slightly. “I haven’t even gotten my first paycheck yet. I don’t want to impose.”

  Miss LaDonna laughed softly.

  “Oh, nonsense.”

  Before Charles could react, she leaned across him and reached straight into the inner pocket of his coat. Charles made a startled noise somewhere between a protest and a squawk.

  “LaDonna—!”

  She withdrew a thick packet of paperwork and slid it across the table toward Olivia, entirely unbothered by Charles’s indignation.

  “He always forgets little details like this, dear,” she said lightly. “That’s your bank account—Grover’s Mill Bank and Trust. Debit card, account information, and all the legal paperwork.”

  Olivia stared at the packet.

  “You… you already set this up?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  She opened it carefully, fingers trembling just a little—and then froze.

  “Uh… this opening deposit…” She looked up, eyes wide. “That’s more than a week’s pay. That’s more than a month’s pay, even at the rate you’re paying me!”

  Charles smiled, infuriatingly serene, and said absolutely nothing.

  Miss LaDonna elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

  “Ow,” Charles muttered.

  She turned back to Olivia, her voice gentler now. “When you moved in, we saw how little you brought with you. So we decided you needed a bit of solvency to get started. Consider it an investment—because we certainly do.”

  Charles finally sighed, rubbing his side. “You’re very valuable to us, Olivia. This station takes care of its own.”

  Then, brightening immediately, he added, “So! Make a list if you like. Clothes, necessities, comforts, indulgences. Tomorrow, I’m your personal courier.”

  Olivia’s vision blurred.

  She stood abruptly and leaned across the table, wrapping both of them in a fierce, heartfelt hug—tight enough that Charles let out a surprised oof.

  Miss LaDonna hugged her back just as hard, one hand cradling the back of Olivia’s head, her voice low and certain as she whispered:

  “You never have to want for anything again, baby girl. That I personally promise you.”

  And for the first time in longer than she could remember, Olivia believed it.