Hale’s expression is unreadable. The station falls so quiet that I can hear the fridge whirring to life all the way back in the kitchen. Finally, Hale clears his throat.
“The motion to defund and dissolve Station 47 has been dismissed.”
Then, Hale does something that surprises me.
He smiles. A real, genuine smile.
“However,” he adds, speaking loudly as excited murmurs break out, “there is a chance that Banks will be reelected in November and renew his plight against us, but for now… we’re not going anywhere!”
Cheers bounce off the walls. One of the guys climbs onto a folding chair and blows an air horn in celebration. Old Bill lifts Rita onto his back and does a victory lap with her around the bay.
I beam at Hale, and he smiles back at me.
We did it.
The whole crew is high on adrenaline and vindication, and unless an alarm starts blaring, it doesn’t show any sign of stopping.
Before I can figure out whether it’s okay for me to hug Hale in front of everything, my phone starts buzzing with an incoming call.
“Lila!” Lou shouts the moment I answer, not even waiting for a hello. I slip away from the others, ducking into an empty conference room for relative quiet. “You need to see the GoFundMe page. Right now.”
“What? Why?”
“Just look! Now!”
Without any further explanation, she hangs up.
Frowning, I open up the donation page… and nearly drop my phone as soon as it loads.
It’s increased. By a lot.
$1,408,233 raised so far,reads the donation counter.
I blink.
“That can’t be right,” I whisper.
We had a fifty-thousand-dollar goal. Maybe too ambitious, I’d originally thought, but enough to support new initiatives that their current budget didn’t have room for. Or, at the very least, toprovide extra financial support if we failed and everyone had to find positions in other stations.
But one-point-four million dollars is far beyond what I ever thought possible. Shared with other stations, this would be enough for more recruitment campaigns, community outreach, and so much else that my spinning mind can hardly fathom right now.
And I’ve helped it happen. Somehow, I brought enough positive attention to these wonderful people that countless other equally wonderful people from all over the country—and maybe even from other countries—cared enough to donate out of their own pockets.
A bit numbly, I emerge from the conference room.
Someone has turned on music. Lights flicker as if the station itself is celebrating. A bunch of people are already planning a proper celebration once they’re off duty and can crack open a few cold ones.
Noah appears beside me instantly, cheeks flushed.
“Hey.” His smile breaks open, charming and boyish. “We did it.”
I can’t hold myself back anymore. Plus, everyone else is hugging.
So, I walk into his open arms. He wraps them around me, holding tight for a bit longer than what would be considered platonic.
When he releases me, Evan is suddenly here as well, leaning against the wall, his eyes soft and bright as he watches us.
“You did this,” he says to me. “It’s all thanks to you.”
