CHAPTER 13: The Foundation Door
The Mercer Foundation youth center sat in a converted warehouse near downtown, far from the gated streets where Ava’s friends lived. Its brick walls were painted with murals of children swimming, reading, building robots, and playing basketball under bright blocks of color. A sign near the entrance read: Grace Mercer Center for Youth and Family Support.
Ava had been there before for ribbon cuttings. She had worn nice dresses, smiled for photos, and accepted compliments about “continuing her mother’s legacy,” though she had never actually done anything there.
Now she arrived in jeans and sneakers with no photographer waiting.
The director, Denise Carter, met her at the front desk. Denise was in her fifties, sharp-eyed, warm when she chose to be, and impossible to impress with last names.
“So,” Denise said, looking Ava up and down. “You’re the birthday girl.”
Ava flushed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Denise nodded toward a storage room. “Today you’re sorting donated shoes by size.”
Ava glanced at Daniel, who stood behind her. He gave no rescue.
“For how long?” she asked.
Denise raised an eyebrow.
Ava corrected herself quickly. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”
Daniel almost smiled, but not quite.
The first hour was miserable. The storage room was hot. The shoes smelled like rubber, rain, and other people’s lives. Ava knelt on the floor sorting sneakers into bins, discovering how many children needed things she had once thrown away because they were no longer fashionable.
A little boy named Noah wandered in holding one shoe with a broken lace.
“Do you have another one like this?” he asked.
Ava turned. “What size?”
He shrugged. “The one that doesn’t hurt.”
The words stopped her.
She found three pairs and helped him try them on. He chose a scuffed blue pair with strong soles. When he smiled, Ava felt something unfamiliar: satisfaction that had nothing to do with attention.
At lunch, Denise handed her a mop.
Ava blinked. “I’m mopping?”
“You’re volunteering.”
Ava looked around at the children eating sandwiches, the staff answering calls, the bulletin board covered in tutoring schedules. No one cared that she was Daniel Mercer’s daughter. No one cared that she had worn a tiara two nights ago.
May you like
She pushed the mop across the floor.
For the first time in a long time, Ava did something useful without being admired for it.
