"Most of them have homes they live in, with their parents or relatives who were kind enough to take them in," Daniella explained as she led Amelia down the street.
The more they journeyed, the rougher the roads looked. Some of the lightbulbs were already flickering, and if it weren't for the fact that it was in the middle of the day, Amelia would've been blind as a bat.
"But there are some who don't have parents or relatives who are able to care for them," Daniella continued, sighing. "So they live in the orphanage. It's just down the street, and where I mainly am stationed for work."
At the end of the road was a small building. It was about three floors up with a rickety front gate and walls that looked like they had seen better days. For one thing, the paint was peeling off. For another, wherever the paint still stuck to the cement, there was mold.
