// A/N: There's some light angst in this chapter. //

Willy looked at us as if we were the luckiest people on the planet. "You mean, you're the only one?" he asked.

With a sure grin, I nodded.

"What happened to the others?" he added. I looked around and shrugged. We immediately shared a hearty handshake.

"(Y/N), that means you've won! Oh, I do congratulate you, I really do. I'm absolutely delighted. I had a hunch right from the beginning. Well done," he explained, his fingers then gently ruffling my hair.

"You know what they say: great minds think alike!" I replied.

Willy released my hand and turned to Miss Mitchell. "You've got quite an impressive child here. She's not only creative but also remarkably sensible," he playfully remarked. Miss Mitchell chuckled in response.

"Now, we mustn't dilly or dally. We have an enormous number of things to do before the day's out." He began to lead us to the elevator. "But luckily for us, we have the great glass elevator to speed things along-"

Willy bumped his head and fell comically. Miss Mitchell and I looked away briefly before he stood up again. "...Speed things along," he groaned.

He pressed the button and urged us to come in. We proceeded inside after I noticed a name that stood out. "Willy, what is 'Up and Out,' and what kind of room is that?" I asked, turning to face him.

"Hold on!" he said, grabbing my hand as Miss Mitchell followed his motion. Willy pushed the button, and we took off.

After a few seconds, he looked up. "Oh, my goodness. We're gonna need to go much faster; otherwise, we'll just never break through."

"Break through what?" I asked.

"I've been longing to press that button for years!" Willy grinned. "Well, here we go. Up and out!"

"But do you really mean...?" Miss Mitchell asked, but her voice trailed off as he nodded.

"But it's made of glass! It'll shatter into a million pieces!" exclaimed Miss Mitchell. I gripped her hand tighter to reassure her that everything would be fine.

The elevator's speed surged until it shattered the glass roof, reaching into the very heart of the clouds. Then, it gradually began its descent. We held each other's hands until Willy confidently pressed a greeb button.

At that moment, four rocket boosters lit up and kept the elevator in mid-air. We all peered out over the front gates, where the other contestants had been left behind.

Augustus was a living chocolate boy; Violet was a blueberry contortionist; Veruca and her dad were covered in trash; and poor Mike was sadly stretched into a bubble gum length.

His eyes were fixated on the contestants below. "They truly deserve it. Parents these days have no control over their children," Willy mused.

I offered a more optimistic perspective, "Not all parents, Willy. While there may be some who struggle, I believe the ones down there will certainly learn a valuable lesson from this experience."

"Where do you live?" he asked. I turned my heads towards him and said, "It is the big building called Roseville Orphanage."

Then he led the elevator to the roof, but not before Miss Mitchell directed it to the landing pad. Yes, as strange as it may sound, we have a landing pad for all flying activities. Elevators, in this case..

One of the children ventured over to see what was happening and returned with a look of astonishment, capturing everyone's attention. In no time, more than 30 children and adults hurried to the landing area.

I pointed excitedly, "Right over there!" The elevator descended gracefully to the landing pad.

Willy pressed the button, giving us space, and the elevator slid open. Miss Mitchell and I stepped out and the crowd went silent.

"Hi, everyone! We're back!" I proclaimed with a wide smile.

🍫🍫🍫

Everyone breaks the silence with a cheer! The children's enthusiasm was contagious as they eagerly pulled me along towards the building. There were the watchful adults ensuring that there was no stampede along the way. Together, we all made our way to the function area, quickly filling up the seats.

Miss Mitchell cleared her throat and a hush fell over the room. "Everyone, this is Mr. Willy Wonka, and he gave us a ride home."

The children's reactions ranged from joyful claps to stunned expressions. Whispered conversations hummed throughout the room as the news sank in.

"He says (Y/N)'s won something," she added.

Willy exclaimed, "Not just something. The most "something" something of any something that's ever been!"

We stared at him as he carefully placed his hands on my shoulders. "I'm gonna give this little girl my entire factory!" he declared.

Amidst collective gasps, I turned to him in disbelief, exclaiming, "Wait, you've got to be kidding!"

Willy grinned warmly and assured me, "No, really. It's true." Overcome with joy, I rushed over to Miss Mitchell, embracing her tightly while my hands covered my mouth in sheer delight.

"Congratulations, I'm proud of you," she whispered.

We had a big party to celebrate, and everyone had a good time with the food and games. Willy and I decided to take a break and talk on one of the balconies.

With a sense of curiosity gnawing at me, I turned to him and asked, "I'd love to hear the story behind all of this. How did it come about?"

"Because you see, a few months ago, I was having my semiannual haircut and I had the strangest revelation. In that one silver hair, I reflected on my life's work: my factory and my beloved Oompa-Loompas. Who would watch over them after I was gone? I realized at that moment: I must find an heir," Willy explained.

"And I did, (Y/N). That was you!" A ruffle of my hair sent a playful shiver down my spine as Willy smiled at me. I tried to brush his hand away, chuckling softly.

"It's quite clear that you sent out those golden tickets to make all of this happen," I replied with a knowing grin.

"Uh-huh. I invited five children to the factory and the one who was the least rotten would be the winner. And you know who that is. So, what do you say? Are you ready to come and work with me at the factory?" Willy held out his hand for a handshake.

Listening to Willy's offer, I felt a sudden wave of conflict wash over me. It had all unfolded so rapidly in a matter of weeks, and the prospect of adapting to this new life in a single day was daunting. Yet, one burning question remained.

I looked at Willy, my thoughts swirling, and then asked, "But what about Miss Mitchell? What would happen to the others here?"

Willy's words confused me. He seemed oblivious to what I truly wanted, and his words left me feeling more conflicted. My cheerful smile turned into a hesitant frown.

"So, if I stay here, I'll hardly ever see you again?" I asked with a hint of disappointment in my voice.

"Yeah. Why, were you considering something else?" he asked.

"Yes, I am, Mr. Wonka!" I insisted, a little agitated. We both stood there, locked in a silent moment of realization.

Clearing my throat, I let my emotions pour out in a heartfelt rant. "Every single day, I've waited, hoping for someone to adopt me, for the chance to be part of a real family. Kids come and go, and they're the ones who find families. I've been waiting for ten long years!"

"I should've seen this coming. I unconsciously thought I'd finally have a family, only to realize that all you care about is the factory and nothing else!" I yelled.

Willy just stood there, his face stiff and expressionless. I took a step back and gazed down from the balcony, feeling a mix of emotions.

Willy broke the silence, explaining, "You see, (Y/N), a chocolatier has to run free and solo. They have to follow their dreams. I had no family, and I'm a huge success."

With a heavy sigh, I expressed my decision, "Well, then, I'm not going. I wouldn't give up my current life so easily, even if it meant working with you."

My tears were welling up and I started to walk away from the balcony. Pausing briefly, I turned my head slightly and softly uttered, "I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka, but I'm staying here."

🍫🍫🍫

"Are you absolutely sure you won't reconsider?" he asked once more. After I stood firm in my decision, he said his farewells and took off in the elevator.

Upon reentering the house, I noticed Miss Mitchell's evident concern. She had been unduly worried, though I assured her I was feeling fine
and simply needed some rest.

I examined the dress's pockets, confirming the presence of the Everlasting Gobstopper and the golden ticket. After changing into my pajamas, I crawled into bed.

"Things are going to change again." I mumbled and drifted into a peaceful slumber, prepared for the ordinary day that awaited me.

The following morning marked the long-anticipated adoption day, an event I consciously evaded. The prospect of being in the spotlight didn't appeal to me, and I preferred the comfort of the familiar.

As I observed, some of the children I had come to know found new homes, resulting in a gradual reduction in our numbers. In the subsequent weeks, we welcomed new arrivals and continued our regular visits to the nearby retirement home.

Roseville Homes for Kids was back to its usual routine. When will it be Mr. Wonka's turn for change?