Chapter 14 – The New Page

Haven Paws never returned in its original form.

Its accounts remained under scrutiny.

Several fundraising platforms suspended campaigns associated with the organisation.

The legal questions moved slowly.

Far more slowly than social media did.

For months, Elisa insisted she had never abused an animal.

Technically, that became the centre of her defence.

She repeated it in every statement.

I never hurt them.

Anna noticed what she never said.

She never said:

I always treated them as soon as I could.

She never said:

I never exaggerated their suffering.

She never said:

I never needed them to look worse than they were.

Then, nine months later, Marco sent Anna a link.

No message.

Just the link.

Anna opened it.

A new social media page.

Different name.

Different logo.

No blue door.

The profile photograph showed Elisa kneeling beside an elderly dog.

The page description read:

Independent emergency animal advocate. Giving a voice to the forgotten.

There were only seventeen posts.

Most were harmless.

Adoption information.

Lost animals.

Food donations.

Then Anna reached the newest post.

A photograph of a frightened kitten beneath a blanket.

Large white letters across the image read:

URGENT – SHE MAY NOT MAKE IT THROUGH THE NIGHT.

Underneath was a donation link.

Anna stared at it.

She opened the comments.

Somebody had already written:

Which veterinary clinic is treating her?

No response.

Another:

Can you post the estimate from the vet?

No response.

Then:

Has she actually been examined yet?

Twenty minutes later, all three comments disappeared.

Anna refreshed the page.

A new post appeared.

A close-up of the kitten’s face.

The caption began:

I wasn’t going to share something this upsetting, but people need to see the reality…

Anna stopped reading.

She took a screenshot.

Then another.

Not because she knew exactly what was happening.

She didn’t.

Maybe this kitten truly needed help.

Maybe Elisa had changed.

Maybe every word was accurate.

Anna could not prove otherwise.

That was the most frustrating part.

She looked again at the photograph.

Then at the donation total rising beneath it.

€740.

€815.

€930.

A minute later:

€1,105.

Anna called Marco.

He answered.

“Did you see it?”

“Yes.”

“What do we do?”

Anna looked at the kitten on the screen.

For several seconds she said nothing.

Then:

“We ask for the vet records first.”

Marco sighed.

“And if she deletes the question?”

Anna refreshed the page.

The donation total rose again.

€1,240.

She replied:

“Then we screenshot that too.”

Outside Anna’s window, evening traffic continued as normal.

On her phone, strangers kept donating.

And somewhere behind the newest photograph was an animal none of them could see clearly enough to know whether they were rescuing it…

or simply paying for the image of its suffering.