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right outside the center, he faced her and took hold of her shoulders as he looked down at her. “You really are your father’s daughter. Don’t work too hard, angel, and end up missing the best parts of life while you’re young.”
    “I won’t.” She accepted the kiss he gave her on the forehead, then waved him off as he headed toward his luxury black vehicle that his driver still had idling outside the door in her fire lane. Proof her father’s time was limited.
    After she watched her father drive off, she stayed outside for a moment. The center was toward the end of the city; a lot of traffic didn’t flow that way, which Kiera loved about the location. The bus still stopped a block away, but the only thing around them was a small strip mall connected to a low-budget grocery store across the street from the center. One of the office spaces was a satellite police station, so if she had any trouble the authorities were close by.
    If someone came to the center, they generally were looking for the center, as there was nothing else to lure them that way.
    Hearing the sound of something hitting the ground, she turned from left to right. She didn’t see anything. However, the sound happened again. There was an empty field behind the center. It used to be filled with foreclosed houses when she first began to renovate, but within the first year of the center being open the city had bought the property and torn down the homes. People murmured and speculated that there was supposed to be a movie theater or an upscale strip mall with apartments over them coming in the future.
    She and the children were crossing their fingers for the theater. The closest one was twenty miles away.
    As she walked around the side of the building that faced the deserted field, the sight before her made her pause in her tracks. She spotted someone with a can held out as they sprayed the wall. Wanda, her activities leader had her cousin, one of Kiera’s exes, paint murals on both side walls. The design was something to give the building color and also inspire pride for the youth that attended. Now someone was defaming it.
    “Hey!” She rushed toward them.
    The person in the hoodie, pulled up over his head in unseasonably warm early spring weather, turned and faced her. He dropped the can and scurried back.
    Recognizing the kid, she called out to him. “Jaquan? What are doing?”
    The fourteen-year-old boy held his ground, but at least had the nerve to look somewhat ashamed as he kept his gaze averted toward the field.
    She knew he wasn’t on the trip to the zoo because his father never signed permission slips for Jaquan to go anywhere. So the boy always got left out of any activity that was away from the center.
    Glancing at the wall where he’d spray-painted across the large image of smiling kids’ faces FUK YOU in black and blue paint.
    “You know how hard the kids had to raise funds selling candy bars and peanut butter brittle to get the money together for the paint supplies. Why would you do this?”
    “It’s just a stupid picture. It don’t help nobody.” His mouth was pinched, his eyes dark with anger and disillusionment.
    “Yes, it does. If offers a sense of dignity to the children who come here.”
    “Not me.” He kicked at one of the three cans littering the ground.
    Placing her hands on her hips, she stared at him. Jaquan wasn’t a troublemaker, but he was always around when trouble was going down in the center. He’d never outright broke the rules before this, but still, he was someone she always debated whether or not to ban from the center—her last resort.
    “Well, in this case I’m not looking for your opinion. I’m looking for elbow grease. Go inside and find Ms. Rochelle and ask her for a bucket of warm water, soap, and a sponge.”
    “For what?” He reared back, sneering at her. “I ain’t going to clean up the center. Especially if I ain’t gettin’ paid for it.” He folded his arms over his narrow