Chapter 5: The Heir Who Built Her Own Legacy
A year later, Lila was sitting on the floor of her new office, surrounded by boxes of supplies for the Clara Hale Foundation. The office was in a small building in downtown Portland, just a few blocks from the penthouse where she’d lived with Arthur Hale for the first few months after they’d met. She’d graduated from high school that spring, and she was starting college in the fall, studying social work so she could keep helping foster kids.
Arthur Hale was sitting next to her, laughing as she tried to put up a poster of the foundation’s logo on the wall. “You know, I never thought I’d be a grandpa again,” he said, handing her a roll of tape. “I thought my family was gone forever, but you found me. You found Clara’s diary, and you found your way back to me.”
Lila smiled, leaning against him. “I never thought I’d have a family either,” she said. “I thought I’d be alone forever, but you found me.”
Just then, her phone rang, and she picked it up, grinning when she saw the name on the screen: Mia Carter, her best friend from foster care. Mia had been adopted two years earlier, and she was living with a family in Seattle, studying to be a teacher. “Hey, Mia,” Lila said, holding the phone up to her ear. “What’s up?”
Mia’s voice was excited, and Lila could hear the sound of kids laughing in the background. “I’m at the new foster care agency in Seattle,” she said. “They asked me to start a mentorship program for the kids here, and I want to know if you can come and speak to them. They want to hear about your foundation, about how you found your family.”
Lila looked at Arthur Hale, who was smiling at her, and she nodded. “Absolutely,” she said. “I’ll be there next weekend. I’d love to talk to the kids.”
She hung up the phone, turning to Arthur Hale. “Mia wants me to speak to the kids at her new foster care agency,” she said. “She said they want to hear about the foundation.”
Arthur Hale stood up, walking over to the window, where he could see the skyline of Portland. “You know, your mom would be so proud of you,” he said. “She spent her whole life helping foster kids, and now you’re carrying on her legacy.”
Lila picked up the tattered leather diary, which she’d had repaired after Ethan had destroyed it, and she ran her finger over the handwritten pages. She thought about the day Ms. Harlow had tossed it on the floor, about the day Arthur Hale had walked into the library, about the day she’d found out she was a billionaire’s heir. She thought about all the foster kids she’d helped, about all the kids who’d told her that they’d given up hope of ever having a family, and she knew that she was doing exactly what her mom had wanted her to do.
May you like
That night, Lila wrote in her new journal, a gift from Arthur Hale: I used to think that my legacy was being a billionaire’s heir, but I was wrong. My legacy is helping kids who are alone, who don’t have anyone to believe in them. I’m carrying on my mom’s work, and I’m making her proud.
She closed her journal, walking over to the window, where she could see the stars shining in the sky. She thought about her mom, about the day she’d been born, about the day she’d died, and she knew that she was never alone. Her mom was with her, in every kid she helped, in every story she told, in every chance she got to make a difference.
