Authors: Emma Heatherington
Tags: #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor, #Contemporary Women, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Sagas, #New Adult & College, #Inspirational, #Women's Fiction, #Literature & Fiction
Gin
a
ha
d
drifte
d
of
f
int
o
a
dee
p
slee
p
befor
e
an
y
o
f
her visitor
s
ha
d
eve
n
mad
e
i
t
ou
t
throug
h
th
e
doo
r
.
Neithe
r
woma
n
spok
e
a
s
the
y
walke
d
dow
n
th
e
corrido
r
,
ou
t
o
f
th
e
Neurologica
l
W
ar
d
an
d
int
o
th
e
lif
t
tha
t
le
d
to th
e
groun
d
floo
r
.
The
y
wer
e
headin
g
fo
r
th
e
canteen
.
The hospita
l
wa
s
buzzin
g
a
s
alway
s
wit
h
team
s
o
f
doctors marchin
g
pas
t
i
n
team
s
o
f
thre
e
an
d
fou
r
,
som
e
i
n
white
coats
,
som
e
i
n
surgica
l
green
s
an
d
al
l
chattin
g
te
n
t
o
the dozen
.
Th
e
entir
e
plac
e
smelle
d
o
f
chlorin
e
an
d
sanitising flui
d
an
d
the
y
wer
e
gla
d
t
o
b
e
me
t
wit
h
th
e
warme
r
yet
stil
l
franticall
y
bus
y
atmospher
e
o
f
th
e
canteen
.
“I’
m
dyin
g
fo
r
a
coffee,
”
sai
d
Poll
y
.
The
y
lifte
d
a
tra
y
an
d
queue
d
alon
g
th
e
woode
n
counte
r
,
slidin
g
th
e
brow
n
tray
s
alon
g
pas
t
pre-packe
d
crackers,
cheese
s
an
d
yoghurts
,
the
n
bun
s
an
d
cake
s
an
d
biscuits
,
two
self-servic
e
pot
s
o
f
sou
p
an
d
a
ho
t
foo
d
counte
r
tha
t
was
se
rvin
g
u
p
everythin
g
fro
m
chicke
n
curr
y
t
o
sausag
e
roll
s
and
a
sweet-and-sou
r
por
k
dis
h
tha
t
looke
d
quit
e
appetising
.
“D
o
yo
u
fanc
y
somethin
g
mor
e
substantia
l
befor
e
your
coffee?
”
aske
d
Ruth
.
He
r
tumm
y
wa
s
rumblin
g
a
s
sh
e
had
misse
d
breakfas
t
i
n
th
e
usua
l
Monda
y
mornin
g
rus
h
t
o
get
Melani
e
ou
t
t
o
school
.
Sh
e
wa
s
wors
e
no
w
a
s
a
teenager tha
n
sh
e
ha
d
bee
n
whe
n
sh
e
wa
s
a
t
primar
y
school
.
“
I
don
’
t
reall
y
hav
e
a
n
appetit
e
fo
r
muc
h
mor
e
tha
n
a
coffee,
”
sai
d
Poll
y
.
“Bu
t
yo
u
g
o
ahead
.
I
t
al
l
look
s
good.
I
jus
t
couldn
’
t
stomac
h
it.
”
Rut
h
le
t
ou
t
a
n
exaggerate
d
sigh
.
“Don
’
t
tel
l
m
e
you’re
on
e
o
f
thos
e
luck
y
peopl
e
wh
o
canno
t
ea
t
whe
n
they’re
stresse
d
o
r
worried
?
I
woul
d
ea
t
th
e
le
g
o
f
a
buttered donke
y
n
o
matte
r
wha
t
I
wa
s
goin
g
through
.
I
n
fact
,
in
time
s
o
f
stress
,
I’
d
ea
t
th
e
fou
r
leg
s
o
f
a
buttere
d
donkey!
Y
o
u
lo
t
sicke
n
me!
”
Poll
y
laughe
d
an
d
mad
e
he
r
wa
y
t
o
th
e
coffe
e
machine.
A
littl
e
gir
l
stoo
d
a
bi
t
to
o
clos
e
t
o
i
t
fo
r
he
r
likin
g
an
d
she
looke
d
aroun
d
t
o
se
e
wh
o
sh
e
wa
s
with
.
Sh
e
wa
s
reaching u
p
t
o
fil
l
a
cu
p
wit
h
ho
t
wate
r
fro
m
th
e
machin
e
and
,
at n
o
mor
e
tha
n
fou
r
year
s
old
,
Poll
y
wa
s
afrai
d
sh
e
would
scal
d
herself
.
“Sapphire
!
Com
e
her
e
immediately!
”
sai
d
a
peroxide- blond
e
dresse
d
i
n
track-sui
t
bottom
s
an
d
a
yello
w
T
-shirt
.