Nina was rushing home. It was already past ten in the evening, and she couldn’t wait to get inside, have dinner, and go to bed. She was exhausted. Her husband, James, was already home, dinner was ready, and their son, Oliver, had been fed.
Nina worked at a small hair salon and had been on the late shift that day. By the time she’d tidied up, set the alarm, and locked the doors, it was way later than she’d planned.
Her usual route home took her through a little park. It was normally quiet and peaceful—during the day, elderly ladies sat on the benches, but in the evening, it was empty, and the streetlights made it feel safe.
But tonight, one of the benches wasn’t empty. Huddled together were two kids—a boy around nine or ten and a girl no older than five. Nina slowed her pace and walked over.
“What are you doing out here so late? Come on, let’s get you home.”
The boy studied her carefully, smoothing the girl’s hair before pulling her closer.
“We’ve got nowhere to go. Our stepdad threw us out.”
“Where’s your mum?”
“With him. Drunk.”
Nina didn’t hesitate.
“Right, up you get. You’re coming with me. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
The kids stood uncertainly. Nina took the little girl’s hand, then offered hers to the boy.
That’s how she brought them home. She explained everything to James and Oliver. Knowing her kind heart, they didn’t argue—just showed the kids where to wash up and sat them down to eat. Hungry but shy, they cleared their plates.
Later, Nina popped over to their neighbour, whose daughter was in Year One, and asked if she had any spare clothes. Between them, they gathered plenty—every family had hand-me-downs.
She bathed little Emily—that was the girl’s name—and dressed her in clean clothes. The boy, Alfie, washed up and wore Oliver’s old clothes.
Nina settled them together on the living room sofa—Emily wouldn’t leave Alfie’s side, and he kept hugging her protectively. Exhausted and fed, they fell asleep quickly.
After sending Oliver to bed, Nina and James whispered late into the night, deciding what to do next.
She woke early, saw James off to work, and got the kids up for breakfast. Their clothes, washed and dried overnight, went into a bag, and she walked them home.
Their flat wasn’t far—third floor, door unlocked. They stopped at the threshold, Nina beside them. She wanted to look this woman in the eye and ask how she’d slept knowing her kids were missing.
Out came a woman who might’ve been young once but looked worn down, a bruise under her eye. She barely glanced at the kids.
“Oh. You’re back. Who’s this?”
“Auntie Nina. We stayed with her.”
“Hmm. Fine.”
She turned to leave, but then stopped.
“Come to the kitchen.”
Nina followed. Strangely, the flat was spotless—washed dishes, swept floors. Even the woman’s tatty dressing gown was clean, though missing buttons.
She sat opposite Nina, studying her with that bruised eye.
“Got kids?”
“Oliver. He’s twelve.”
“Listen, if anything happens to me… don’t let them go into care. They’re good kids.”
“But… you’re just giving up?”
“I can’t stop. Tried before. And he won’t let me.” She nodded towards the bedroom, where snores rumbled.
“Call the police!”
“I have. He does fifteen days, comes back worse. And I can’t quit drinking. Every day. He throws them out—he’s not their dad.”
“Where’s their dad?”
“Drowned when Emily turned one. That’s when I started.”
“Work?”
“Cleaned at Tesco. Got sacked last week.”
“Him?”
“Cash jobs. We scrape by.”
She gripped Nina’s wrist.
“Promise me. If I’m gone… just check on them. You’re kind. I see it.”
Nina left, dazed. She barely registered the kids hugging her goodbye.
Outside, she cried—big, ugly tears, strangers turning to stare.
That evening, she told James everything. He agreed—if things went bad, they’d step in. Oliver, overhearing, joined them in a quiet kitchen hug.
Three days later, Alfie came running. His mum had vanished; his stepdad had been arrested. Emily was with a neighbour, but social services were coming. He dashed off before Nina could say much.
The next day, the police found the woman in the river—foul play suspected. Maybe she’d known it was coming.
Nina and James fought through red tape for custody. With no other family, social services approved it—especially after Nina recounted that kitchen plea.
Nina quit her job. Emily, terrified, clung to Alfie. If she dropped a spoon, she’d flinch, expecting James to shout. It took months for her to relax. Alfie, older, understood they were safe.
Slowly, Emily warmed up—chatting with Nina and Oliver, even playing. But James still scared her, that fear of men lingering. He never pushed, though. He’d always wanted a daughter.
Then came the day she hugged him. He’d been away for work. Nina and Emily met him at the door. Kneeling, he held out his arms. Emily hesitated… then flung herself around his neck.
He lifted her, beaming. Oliver bounded over, then Nina. They stood there, wrapped together, smiling.
In this family, everything would be alright.
