Chapter Two: Becoming Anna Moore
1091 Words
Evelyn told herself it was temporary.
That thought followed her through the subway ride home, through dinner eaten standing at her kitchen counter, and through the restless night that came after. She repeated it like a rule. Temporary meant manageable. Temporary meant forgivable.
The next morning, she arrived at the Blackwood Foundation ten minutes early, as usual. The lobby was quiet, the air cool and still. She greeted security with a polite nod and rode the elevator up alone.
At her desk, she opened her laptop and froze.
Her name on the system read: Moore, Anna.
She stared at the screen longer than necessary.
“Morning.”
Evelyn looked up. The senior coordinator from the donor team stood beside her desk, holding a tablet.
“Good morning,” Evelyn said carefully.
“We’re short today,” the woman said. “I’ll need you to help with donor follow-ups.”
“Of course.”
“You’re fast with records,” the coordinator added.
Evelyn forced a small smile. “I’ll take care of it.”
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By midmorning, she was answering emails she would never have been trusted with at her old job. Donors addressed her warmly. Some signed off with familiarity, as if they’d known her for years. She responded politely, keeping things short and professional.
Around noon, she felt someone stop near her desk.
“Anna.”
She looked up. Julian Blackwood stood there, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. He didn’t raise his voice, but his presence made the space around him feel smaller.
“Yes?”
“I need the final numbers for the Hartwell event.”
“I’ll send them right away.”
He nodded, then paused. “You’ve adjusted quickly.”
“I try to,” she said.
He studied her for a brief moment, then moved on without another word.
Evelyn exhaled slowly.
=========================================
At lunch, she sat in the staff kitchen with a few coworkers for the first time. They talked casually about weekend plans and restaurant openings. No one asked where she came from. No one questioned her place there.
“So how long have you been with the foundation?” someone asked.
“Not long,” Evelyn said. “A few months.”
“That makes sense,” another replied. “You seem… polished.”
Evelyn didn’t know how to respond to that, so she smiled and focused on her salad.
That afternoon, she received a calendar invite for a donor strategy meeting. Her name was listed among senior staff. She almost declined out of habit, then stopped herself.
Temporary, she reminded herself. Just observe.
In the meeting room, she took a seat near the end of the table. The discussion moved quickly, filled with terms she recognized but had rarely been allowed to speak about. When someone asked for clarification on a data point, Evelyn answered before she could stop herself.
“That’s correct,” Julian said after reviewing the numbers. “Good catch.”
After the meeting, Julian stopped her near the door.
“You didn’t hesitate in there,” he said.
“I didn’t want to slow things down.”
“That’s not why,” he replied. “You knew what you were talking about.”
She nodded, unsure what else to say.
He studied her for a second longer than necessary. “Be ready for more responsibility.”
Then he walked away.
=========================================
That evening, Evelyn called her mother.
“How’s work?” her mother asked.
“Busy,” Evelyn replied. “Good, though.”
“That’s good. You sound different.”
“Different how?”
“More confident,” her mother said. “Just don’t forget who you are.”
Evelyn closed her eyes. “I won’t.”
After the call, she sat on her couch, staring at her phone. She hadn’t lied outright. Not really. She just hadn’t explained everything. Well, she doesn't need to explain anything as long as she can send money to help her mother survive.
The next few weeks passed quickly.
Evelyn—Anna—was pulled deeper into the foundation’s operations. She assisted with international scheduling, donor negotiations, and internal reports. Her days grew longer, but so did her sense of belonging. People trusted her. They relied on her.
She stopped correcting the name.
One afternoon, she received a message from HR requesting an updated profile photo for internal records. She hesitated, then complied. She chose a simple, professional headshot. No frills. No risk.
Later that day, she overheard two staff members talking near the copier.
“Julian likes her,” one said.
“He doesn’t like anyone,” the other replied.
“Well, he trusts her.”
Evelyn pretended not to hear and returned to her desk.
That evening, she was asked to stay late to prepare materials for an upcoming board visit. The office emptied as the sky darkened outside. Around nine, she stood to stretch and realized she wasn’t alone.
Julian sat in his office across the hall, the lights still on.
A few minutes later, he stepped out.
“You’re still here.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t need to stay this late.”
“I wanted to finish.”
He nodded. “I appreciate that.”
There was a pause.
“You should go home,” he added. “Rest matters.”
“I will,” she said.
As she packed her bag, she felt something unfamiliar. Not fear. Not guilt.
Something closer to hope.
On the subway ride home, she watched her reflection in the window. The woman staring back looked composed. Capable. Like someone who belonged in the city she lived in.
She opened her email again. Another message addressed to Anna Moore.
She didn’t correct it.
At home, she updated her résumé. Carefully. Quietly. She removed details that didn’t fit. She adjusted timelines. Nothing dramatic. Just enough.
She stared at the document for a long time before saving it under a new file name.
Anna_Moore_Resume.
Evelyn shut her laptop and lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
She knew the risk. She wasn’t pretending she didn’t.
But for the first time in years, the future didn’t feel like a locked door. The door had finally opened up for her, and it was time for her to step inside. At the back of her mind, she can hear a clear and distinct voice that is telling her "Go ahead, take the first step for brighter future..."
And she had stepped through it without realizing how hard it would be to turn back...
- Writer
