Victoria’s phone rang. She ignored it. Rang again. She checked. Work emergency. Isaiah stood immediately. Let me drive you. They rushed to help a teenage girl in crisis. Found her housing. Made sure she was safe. Working together, Isaiah saw Victoria in action. Her compassion, strength, absolute dedication. He fell deeper in love.
By midnight, they reached Victoria’s apartment. At her door, she turned. Thank you for tonight, for everything. Thank you for giving me a chance, Isaiah. That program for kids aging out. Were you serious? Very serious. I want to create something that actually helps. Victoria’s eyes filled. I want to help you build it.
I was hoping you’d say that. They stood close, neither wanting the night to end. I should go in, Victoria said softly. I know. Neither moved. Finally, Isaiah stepped back. Good night, Victoria. Good night. He watched her go inside, waited until her light came on. Then he looked at this ribbon keychain.
She’s falling, too. upstairs. Victoria leaned against her door, hand over her heart. I’m falling, she whispered. I’m really falling for him. For the first time in 22 years, the promise felt possible. The next morning, Isaiah called his lawyers. I need to set up a foundation immediately. What kind of foundation, Mr.
Mitchell? for youth aging out of foster care. Comprehensive support, housing, education, job training, mental health services, everything. Budget, 10 million to start, renewable annually. 2 weeks later, Isaiah invited Victoria to his corporate office downtown. Victoria walked in overwhelmed. Floor toeiling windows, modern furniture, success everywhere.
This is where you work? Isaiah smiled. Most days, but I’d rather be at the community center with you. Why am I here? I have something to show you. Sit. Victoria sat. Isaiah pulled up a presentation on the large screen, the Red Ribbon Initiative. Victoria’s eyes widened at the name. Isaiah clicked through slides.
comprehensive program for youth aging out of foster care age 16 to 25. He detailed the services. Transitional housing in his buildings, scholarship fund for education, job training programs, mental health counseling, life skills coaching, legal aid. Budget 10 million first year. Goal: serve 100 youth. Scale to 500 within 3 years.
Victoria was speechless. I’ve partnered with 12 Chicago companies. They’ll provide job placements, internships, mentorship. He clicked to the next slide. But the program needs a director, someone who understands these kids, someone who’s earned their trust. Victoria’s heart raced. Someone like you.
Isaiah pulled out a folder, handed it to her. Inside, a formal job offer. Executive Director. Salary $120,000 per year. Full benefits. Staff of 10. Complete operational control. Victoria stared at the numbers. Isaiah, this is a job. A real one, not charity. You’d work harder than you’ve ever worked. Quarterly reports, board presentations, budget management.
I don’t have a degree in nonprofit management. I don’t have experience running something this big. Isaiah sat beside her. You have something better. You’ve lived it. You know exactly what barriers exist and what support actually means. Victoria looked at the offer. Her hands trembled.
And Victoria, this is separate from us. Whatever happens between us personally, this program stands. You’ll have a contract, legal protections. This isn’t contingent on our relationship. Victoria exhaled. She’d been worried about that. I want you to take this job because it’s right for you and the kids, not because you feel obligated to me.
Victoria stood, walked to the window, looked out at the city. I’ve spent my whole adult life working in a broken system, watching kids fall through cracks, knowing I can’t save them all. Her voice broke. And now you’re offering me a chance to actually fix things, to build something better. It’s overwhelming.
Isaiah walked to her. Think about Marcus. About all the kids like him like I was. We can help them. Why me? You could hire someone with more experience. Because you care. Because you see these kids as people, not statistics. Because 22 years ago, you proved you’ll sacrifice everything for someone who needs help.
