Annabelle laughed. “No, you don’t. Here it is.”
The Global Youth Leadership program is known the world over for its prestigious academic program. During their year abroad, the students who qualify for this program have opportunities that most of us only dream of. Meeting with world leaders and heads of state. Hands-on experience in their fields of study. Ports of call on each of the seven continents, including the Antarctic. Upon completing GYL, these young scholars have a network of contacts that most professionals do not collect in a lifetime.
But that is not, according to GYL alumni, the most valuable thing that they get from the program.
“The friendships you form as a class, the bond we have with one another, is lifelong and life altering,” came a familiar voice from the screen. Dressed in a suit and tie and looking every inch the power broker that he was, was Carter DeVries of DeVries Financial.
“Jesus, look at that. I am seriously losing my hair,” said Carter in the room. Everyone laughed.
On screen, he continued. “For our class, this has been a very difficult and emotional year. First, one of our classmates was lost in a warzone and given up for dead by nearly everyone around us. Then we watched as a second classmate risked her life to get him back. Now they’re getting dragged through the mud by the media.
“Michael is my best friend on this earth, and Sophie’s a close second. They are also two of the most stubborn people I know. Neither of them would have accepted financial help from the class directly. So we chose to give our support a different way.” Carter grinned, so proud of himself.
“The GYL class of 2002 paid the bill for these costs, willingly, voluntarily. Every penny, and then some.” His grin broadened. “Welcome home, guys.”
The camera returned to Michael and Sophie. On screen, she wept and even Michael’s eyes seemed suspiciously shiny. Annabelle smiled.
“You have very loyal friends, you know.” Both of them nodded, still stunned. “There are fifty people in your class, plus a number of road staff. Not one of them would speak to our reporters until Carter DeVries came forward to make this statement on their behalf.”
“We’re pretty tight,” Sophie said.
“Any final thoughts that you wanted to share? Sophie?”
“Only to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to all the people who made it possible for me to find Michael again. I didn’t do any of this alone, and I’m grateful for the support I’ve received.”
“Michael?”
“I want an end to this war,” he said passionately. “I want Orlisia to be free again. Those are real people in Parnaas who have lost their homes, their families. Their captors would have them forced into slave labor. The world cannot stand by and allow this to happen, no matter how large and powerful the Soviet Republic is. I beg the United Nations to continue to take swift action to end the occupation and free my country.”
“Thank you for speaking with us. We are happy you are safe on American soil again.” Annabelle turned to the camera. “We leave you tonight with some still images of the Parnaas refugee camp, provided courtesy of the Refugee Crisis Coalition. I’m Annabelle Hunter. Goodnight.”
The pictures created a beautiful and haunting montage. At the end, the screen dissolved into darkness, and they showed a list of agencies where viewers could donate money or learn more about the refugee situation in Orlisia. When that disappeared, it was replaced by the address where viewers could obtain more information about GYL.
Then it was done. There was a long silence in the dark living room.
“That was extremely well done, my children,” said Signe emotionally. “I am proud of both of you. More than I can ever tell you.”
“We know how hard it was for both of you to do that,” said Maxwell. “You nailed it. Well done.” The phones – which had never stopped ringing and vibrating during the entire program – continued ringing.
“I’m just glad they didn’t crucify us.” Sophie looked at Michael curiously. “Are you okay?”
“I am not sure. I found it very difficult to watch. To experience the emotions over again.” He glared at Carter. “I still want to kill you for surprising us that way. But I will do that later.”
“You want me to take the money back?” asked Carter, putting little Michael over his shoulder to burp him. “I could use that cash to buy a new Jaguar, you know.” He lurched forward. “Damn it, he threw up down my back again.”
“I told you to use the cloth.” Janet wiped her husband’s back while Michael chuckled.
“Laugh away. It’ll be your turn soon enough,” warned Carter darkly.
Half an hour later, the DeVries family drove off into the night as Sophie and Michael waved from the doorstep.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Right now, I would like to go to bed.” Michael looked and sounded tense. “If you would prefer to stay up, perhaps listen to some of the many messages on your iPhone,” he said, gesturing to Sophie’s jittering phone, “I understand.”
“They can wait.”