The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed

Chapter 054

Elena glanced at her watch: 5:30 p.m. The Rogers NGO office had emptied into the golden dusk outside her window, filing into city streets.

She gathered her notes, slipped her laptop into her satchel, and closed her planner with a decisive snap.

Descending the sleek glass staircase, she emerged into the lobby where her driver, Malik, waited by a silver‐grey sedan. He lifted her bag with a quick nod.

“Heading home, Ms. Rogers?” he asked, hands on the door handle.

Elena paused halfway down the stairs. For a long moment, she studied the sterile lobby—glass walls, the soft drone of refrigerators in the adjacent café lounge, the quiet hum of security scanners.

“Not yet,” she replied, voice bright with purpose. “We’re going to St. Jude’s Orphanage. It’s been too long since I visited in person.”

Malik arched an eyebrow but said nothing. He started the engine, and they glided out of the NGO building onto avenues lined with amber streetlights.

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Twenty minutes later, they arrived at St. Jude’s—a cheerful yellow building nestled behind a wrought-iron fence, climbing roses framing the entrance.

A gentle breeze stirred wind chimes by the door, and the late-day sun painted the playground in warm hues.

Elena stepped out, inhaling the scent of woodchips and fresh-cut grass. In the courtyard, children were mid-game: tag, hopscotch, hide-and-seek.

As soon as they spotted her—her auburn hair tied in a neat braid and her tailored coat fluttering—they erupted in joyous shouts.

“Ms. Rogers!”

“Ms. Elena!”

A dozen little feet pounded the ground. They swarmed her, arms flailing with happiness.

Small bodies clung to her legs, tugged at her sleeves, and one tiny boy leaped for her waist, nearly sending her off-balance.

“Miss Elena—watch out!” Malik called, leaping forward. Three instructors, uniforms soft blue with the orphanage’s logo on the breast, rushed to steady her.

They gently extricated arms and legs, while children giggled, wrapping themselves around one another in giddy chaos.

Elena laughed, heart swelling. “Oh, you’ve grown so much!” She scooped up a freckled girl in a pink hoodie. “Anna, look at you!”

“Ms. Rogers!” Anna squealed.

Malik shut the car door. He turned and gave Elena a respectful nod. “I’ll wait here until you’re done.”

“Thank you,” she called back, voice affectionate. “I won’t be long.”

Together with the instructors—Miriam, Joel, and Pia—she entered the building. The lobby smelled of vanilla polish and craft glue.

Painted murals of children reading under rainbows adorned the walls. A donation box shaped like a giant teddy bear sat by the volunteer desk.

Miriam waved her inside the volunteer office, a warm space with a round table, mismatched chairs, and stacks of papers. “Ms. Rogers, wonderful to see you,” she greeted. “Come in, please.”

Elena took a seat. Joel handed her a folder. “We’ve compiled updates since your last visit.”

Flipping it open, she found reports, photos of newly renovated dorms, and budgets for the education fund.

The good news: a rising volunteer count, improved meal programs, and a gifted piano in the music room, donated by a local patron.

The challenge: a leak in the roof of Dorm B, a shortfall in reading supplies, and an aging heating system that sputters in winter.

Elena looked up. “The piano sounds lovely. Music therapy does wonders.” She tapped the report. “But the roof leak—how severe?”

Pia held up a laminated photo showing water stains and a sagging ceiling panel. “We draped tarps and buckets, but we need a permanent fix. The budget only covers patchwork.”

Elena made notes. “I’ll allocate funds from our Lancaster contract specifically for infrastructure repairs. No child should wake to dripping ceilings.” She smiled, reassuring. “What about reading supplies?”

Miriam nodded. “We’ve purchased secondhand books, but new ones would be ideal. We lack just over five-hundred dollars to fill the library shelves.”

Elena tapped her pen. “I’ll cover that too. And I’m establishing a monthly stipend for the library fund.” She glanced at Joel. “Anything else?”

Joel cleared his throat. “The orphanage garden—while beautiful—needs tools and seeds for spring planting. We have volunteer support but no budget line for supplies.”

Elena grinned. “Gardening teaches responsibility and discovery. Count on me.” She jotted figures in her notebook. “We’ll finalize these allocations by Friday. I’ll send confirmation to Miriam’s email.”

The instructors exchanged relieved smiles. Pia reached over and squeezed Elena’s hand. “Thank you. You’ve lifted a weight off our shoulders.”

Elena returned the warmth. “This place is my passion project, and you all make it thrive. Our new partnership with Lancaster Industries—headed by Mr. Lancaster—opens doors we never dreamed.”

Miriam’s eyes brightened. “Yes—the Lancaster grant will catapult our programs: STEM labs, art therapy, scholarship placements.”

Elena leaned back, satisfaction gleaming. “Precisely. I can’t wait to see what our children achieve.”

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A ripple of footsteps sounded outside. The orphans, drawn by the gathering, peered through the doorway—eyes wide, shy smiles blossoming.

Elena stood, arms open. “Come in, everyone!” A dozen children poured into the room, their chatter a chorus of excitement. She crouched to their level, sharing quick hugs and high-fives.

Anna bounded forward. “Ms. Rogers, can you stay for dinner?”

Elena chuckled. “Tonight, I must return to work tomorrow. But I’ll bring pizza next week, promise.”

The children cheered, then scampered off to the common area.

Elena gathered her satchel. Joel and Miriam escorted her to the entrance. “Thank you again,” Miriam said, voice heartfelt.

Elena embraced each instructor in turn. “You’re doing incredible work. Next week, I want the garden laid out, the roof repaired, and the library font replenished. If you need anything else, I’m only a call away.”

Miriam laughed. “We’ll hold you to it.”

Outside, Malik stood by the sedan, his jacket clipped square. He opened the door. “Ready?”

Elena slung her bag inside and paused to gaze back at the yellow building, the playground now silent in twilight.

The chimes tinkled softly in the breeze. She inhaled, the scent of roses climbing the fence mingling with autumn air.

“Yes,” she said, voice resolute. “I’ll be back sooner this time.”

Malik closed the door gently, and they drove off, the orphanage receding in the rearview mirror. Elena settled into the seat, her heart full—a quiet joy replacing the day’s work‐worn fatigue.

Ahead lay more challenges, but tonight she carried with her the laughter of children and the promise of brighter tomorrows.