Sarah lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Worrying thoughts kept her from falling asleep. How could she possibly sleep when her little one was unwell? Why did I send her to nursery? If I’d kept her home another day or two, maybe she wouldn’t have caught this dreadful bug…

Emily lay sprawled on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the ceiling above. Restless thoughts darted about her mind, robbing her of any hope of sleep. How could she possibly sleep, when her precious little girl was so ill? Why on earth had I taken her back to nursery today? If only shed stayed home another day or so, she mightve avoided picking up this wretched bug

Her chest tightened with guilt until each breath felt laboured. Emily rose and wandered to the window. Outside, sullen, grey clouds hung low over the village, pressing against the rooftops. For the third day in a row, an endless, chilly Autumn drizzle had been falling, drumming gently, unceasingly, on the glass. She exhaled heavily.

From the bedroom, little Rosie shifted in her sleep, let out a soft groan, and then began to cough. Emily rushed to her side and laid a hand on her forehead, hot to the touch. She didnt need a thermometer to know Rosies temperature was up again. She flicked on the nightlight gently, slipped the thermometer under her daughter’s arm.

Forty! Oh God, what do I do?

Rosies eyes flitted open. Mummy, Im so hot.

I know, sweetheart, I know Lets help you feel better.

Her husband, James, stirred and sat up beside them. Emily bustled about, preparing yet another round of paracetamol. Still, the fever held stubbornly fast. As dawn broke, the gravel drive flickered with blue lights as the ambulance drew up, ready to whisk Emily and her rosy-cheeked Rosie off to Kings Hospital.

A kindly nurse, taking in Emilys pale, anxious face, gave her hand a gentle squeeze and slipped a fine cannula into Rosies little arm with practised ease. Well look after her, love. Shell be right as rain before you know it. Emily could only sigh in response.

It wasnt long before Rosie perked up a little and peered around for a drink. As Emily glanced across the ward, she caught sight of another little girl, probably six, sitting up on the next bed, her enormous blue eyes framed by wispy, tangled blonde hair. She was wearing a threadbare T-shirt and tights with holes in the toes, and beneath the bed were a battered pair of trainers each tucked inside a blue shoe cover.

Good morning! ventured Emily.

Hello, piped the girl shyly. Did you come last night?

Thats right, we did, said Emily. Im Emily, and this is Rosie. Whats your name?

Im Grace. Ill be going home soon, on Friday, they said.

Well, thats still a few days yet. Todays only Monday.

Grace shook her head. No, I mean, not home-home. I live at the childrens home now. My mum passed away when I was little and when Dad turned to drink, well, he did too. So they brought me to the orphanage

She let out a weary sigh, sounding far older than her years. Its not too bad here, though. The foods nice, and the big kids cant pick on you so much

She hopped out of bed, pulling on her trainers. Its nearly breakfast. Want me to bring you something?

Thats lovely of you, Grace, but I can manage for now.

Emily watched her go, her heart heavy with pity. The woman in the next bed glanced after Grace too and whispered, Shes a dear child, gentle as you like. Just hasnt had much luck, bless her.

Emily was about to reply when her mobile chimed.

Hello?

How are you, love? And Rosie?

Mum, were at the hospital with Rosie. The fever spiked They think it’s bronchitis. Shes sleeping now.

Her mother gasped. Oh my poor darling girl! Which hospital are you in? Ill come quick. What do you need?

Emily paused. I forgot my slippers, and Rosie needs her pink pyjamas. And Mumtheres a little girl here, from the childrens home. Could you bring some kids shampoo and soap? Maybe some of Sarahs old things? You knowsome vests, leggings, a dressing gown, and most importantly, some little slippers. Size six-ish, I suppose?

Of course, sweetheart, Ill bring everything.

The following morning, Rosie was bright and cheerful, busy playing with her new friend. Emily slipped out to the corridor and stopped a passing nurse. Excuse me, does anyone visit Grace?

The nurse shook her head. No, love. Someone from the homell come for her on discharge, thats all.

Is she allowed a bath?

The nurse gave a wry smile. Not just allowedshe needs one. Were simply rushed off our feet.

That evening, a transformed Grace delighted the whole ward. Bathed and glowing, she twirled in her fresh pyjamas and brand-new pink slippers with little embroidered puppies, barely able to contain her joy. All her new treasures were tucked safe under her pillow, the slippers hidden under her mattress.

Grace, why are you hiding your things, pet? Emily asked.

Dont want them stolen

Emily could only sigh.

When the lights were switched off, Grace closed her eyes and began to dream. She imagined walking down a sun-drenched street lined with leafy sycamores, holding Rosies hand with one and Emilys with the other. She ached for a family of her owna mother who would stroke her hair and kiss her goodnight, a father who would toss her into the air and make her giggle until her sides hurt. She longed to help with jobswashing up, babysitting Rosie, learning her sumsanything, as long as someone loved her. If only she had a mum…

She sighed. At the childrens home, they never really hit her, but the stern Miss Clayton was always shouting, and the older kids often called her names and pinched her food and clothes. Once, Grace dropped her bowl of porridge, and for that, shed been locked in the draughty old cupboard under the stairs. Vicky Evans had leered through the door, You silly cow, bet youre scared of the rats. Grace was, in fact, dreadfully frightened of rats. She cried silently in the dusty darkness, back pressed to the door, her skinny arms wrapped round her knees. By nightfall, freezing and faint, shed slumped to the stone floor, which was probably when she caught the cough that sent her to hospital

Just thinking about it brought a stinging flood to her eyes, tears slipping onto her cheeks. She sniffedand suddenly felt a gentle hand stroking her hair.

Auntie Emily…?

There now, sweetheart, hush Dont cry, love. Itll all work out, youll see. I promise

Emily, full of pity for the lonely child, took her in her arms and held her close. It felt, to Grace, almost as if her own mum had come back just to squeeze her tight.

Auntie Emily

Yes, love?

I wish you were my mummy

Emilys tears flowed too, and in that moment, she knew exactly what she had to donot because of logic, but from her very heart; the only thing left was to talk to her family.

Her own mum understood immediately, backing her completely. Even her mother-in-law, having grown up as an orphan herself, was wholeheartedly for it. James, though, was unsure.

Emily, have you lost your mind? Do you really understand what youre signing up forfor life?

I do. And I also know that if I dont do this, Ill regret it for the rest of my days. You see?

He looked away.

I want to meet her.

Alright.

That evening, Emily led James into the hospital lounge. He scooped Rosie up, planting a kiss on her forehead.

My darling, Ive missed you so much! Turning to Emily, she met his eyes and said quietly, Well thenJames, this is Grace.

Grace nodded, lifting those huge darting blue eyes up to him. Hello, sir.

Well, hello there! Pleased to meet you, Grace.

And I, you

Something tugged at Jamess heart. He looked at Emily, his eyes brimming. He nodded.

A few months later, a car pulled up outside the childrens home. Emily and James got out, and, at their arrival, kids pressed excited faces to the windows.

Grace, Graceyour people are here!

Bursting with excitement, Grace dashed out to her new family.

Hello, Grace! Weve come for you. Ready to go home?

Graces heart swelled with happiness and love. Yes, Mummy!

And I learnt, in all the uncertainty and fear, that sometimes its only by opening our hearts that we truly find our familyand ourselves.