“So when they walk out the door, that’s it?”
By the way Philadelphia’s shoulders stiffened, the little barb struck a nerve. “We give the children in our care everything we can, physically, spiritually, emotionally. We do everything in our power to see that when they leave us, they leave in a better state, and go prepared to lead a productive, contented life. We feel deeply for them, Lieutenant, and on a professional level we understand they’re only ours for a short time, so we have to let go. For their well-being, and for our own.”
“But you interact with them every day, basically live with them.”
“That’s correct.”
“Who’s in charge?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. My brother and I share duties, responsibilities. We founded both The Sanctuary and HPCCY together.”
“So you’re partners, in a sense.”
“Yes, in every sense.”
“But you’re the one with a business degree, with business management training.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“So you deal with the finances.”
“At HPCCY, yes, primarily.”
“How did you let the other place tank so bad you literally walked away from it?”
The faintest color spread over her cheeks. “I’m not sure how this applies.”
“Everything applies.”
“We overextended,” Philadelphia said shortly. “Emotionally and financially. We simply believed in what we were doing, and wanted to do so much we neglected the practicalities. Actually, I got the management training during the last year we had The Sanctuary as we realized we were in trouble in that area.”
“So before that, you just fumbled along. What, hoping for a miracle?”
Both her eyes and her voice went very, very cool. “I understand not all believe in the power of prayer. We do, even when the answer to that prayer isn’t clear or seems hard. In the end, our miracle came. We’ve been able to help many more children, give them much more care, simply because we initially failed in a practical, business sense.”
“Who handled the finances at The Sanctuary—before you got the training?”
Philadelphia made a short, impatient sound. “Again, I don’t understand these questions. Nash did, for the most part. We were raised in a very traditional home. Our father earned the living, handled the money, the bills. Our mother kept the house. So we initially approached The Sanctuary with that dynamic. It was what we knew. But it became apparent to both of us that Nash simply wasn’t gifted with a real head for business. I was. We also believe in using our gifts, so I got further training. It was too late to save The Sanctuary, but we accept that was the plan.”
“Whose plan?”
“The higher power. We learned, we lost, we were given another chance, and we’ve succeeded.”
“Handy. So you handle the finances now.”
“For HPCCY, yes, along with our accountant.”
“You’d each handle your own personal finances?”
“Of course. Lieutenant—”
“Just getting a picture,” Eve interrupted. “What about your other brother?”
“Monty? Monty died.”
“In Africa. Fifteen years ago last month. I meant before he died. What was his function? What were his duties, responsibilities? His share?”
“He . . . assisted wherever he could. He enjoyed helping with meals, doing small repairs. He helped Brodie now and then.”