After Hours by Dara Girard Read Free Book Online Page A

benefit of a good education. Amera had no memory of living anywhere but in an orphanage, and being told stories of how she was left on the doorsteps of the first orphanage at about three years old, with a note: “This is my daughter, America, please take care of her.” She was called Amera for short, and given the surname Thurston, when she was christened by the people who ran the orphanage, an independent Christian organization. She later learned she was one of five children to be dropped off that day. Her memory of the orphanage didn’t stand out, but she didn’t have any terrifying tales either. Amera lived there until she was about seven, then it closed and all the children were transferred to Wenthrop Children’s Home, a privately run facility. This was where she got a solid education. The founder of the home believed in strict discipline, not cruel, and education was paramount. She stayed at the children’s home until she was eighteen, gaining experience working with the younger children, as she took on the role of being a big sister to most of them. Then the war came. Florence wasn’t so lucky. She had been raised in a small West African village, and had been the only girl, amongst six brothers.
    Her mother was a sickly woman, so by the time Florence was six, she was forced to do most of the chores, and soon found herself taking care of the family. She was unable to go to school on a regular basis, but had been able to get some schooling, on and off, until she was forced to drop out when she turned thirteen. That’s when she was promised in marriage to a man three times her age, and decided to run off to the main town to make a better life for herself. Unfortunately, she found things more difficult, and eventually ended up using her body to survive on the streets, before she was taken in by a Christian Humanitarian AID organization, where she eventually finished her high school education, and got an opportunity to go to America.
    After losing touch, Amera had come across Peale House quite by accident, after seeing the artwork of one of the residents featured in a local newspaper and then spotting Florence’s face. Amera contacted her right away and they had had a heartfelt reunion, taking care to only talk about the present instead of the pain from the past. Amera was eager to help her friend with her efforts, wanting to give back the advantages she’d had at the orphanage and Wenthrop Children’s Home. She knew the importance and power of education and hard work. So for the past three years she’d tried to get the additional funding Peale House needed to expand and provide better services for their clients.
    But she had become frustrated. Over the past three years, she had helped them try several approaches to get funding from Curtis’ company and others like his. Trying to gain interest through different means such as a newsletter, writing articles, having an on-line blog, and even creating several videos featuring the services they offered. But each year the answer was the same—no--and interest in the facility remained negligible. She couldn’t gain the extra funding they needed, which didn’t make sense to her. She was used to succeeding.
    On several occasions, Florence tried to persuade her to stop. She told her that Peale House was getting by and doing what it was committed to, in spite of the lack of funding, but Amera wouldn’t give up. She wasn’t used to failing and wouldn’t start now.
    “Thanks for the food you sent. It really made the volunteers happy.”
    “I caught him during a moment of weakness. Not that he has many,” Amera said thinking of Curtis’ refusal to fund the proposal. She took off her gloves and sat down.
    Her friend stared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    Amera blinked confused. “Tell you what?”
    “That you’re getting married?” Florence said, her gaze fixated on Amera’s hand.
    Amera glanced down at the ring. She’d completely forgotten about it.