The New Crop

Elizabeth stretched by the pool, rolling over onto her belly. Her two charges, Harper and Amy, did the same. It was the last breath before the new school year. Elizabeth eyed the two girls. Amy could be here all day, but Harper was already pinkening. She'd need to go in soon.

The two younger girls gawked at the older woman's tattoo of Somalia. What could possess her to get such a thing, they thought? What could inspire that type of loyalty.

"So ummm ...." Amy started awkwardly. "I've gone onto like ...the Gram and TikTok and stuff. And I notice the past girls are pretty much all with the men in the program. Is that like ... required?"

"No," Elizabeth said flatly. "We don't require anyone to do anything they don't want. We do ask that you girls keep an open mind. This is about sharing your culture with these foreign men, and them doing the same for you. You need to be open about foreign cultures. And I think you will find, if you do so, that you'll want to share more with them than just a glass of wine. The girls in this program couple with the Africans and Arabs not because of expectation, but because they genuinely find them to be superior. Strong, faithful providers."

There was a long moment of silence as the girls ruminated on that.

"So," Elizabeth said. "Amy, we know about you. Harper, what is your story?"