the way up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. Dad and Min are right behind her, me and Mum bringing up the rear. I can feel Mum’s eyes on me, so I give her a tiny smile, which she returns.
“The children are resting right now, so we should be quiet,” Miss Cheng says, then shows us into a large, white, open room with a whirring ceiling fan above us. There are toddlers in the neat row of cots with metal bars. Some are taking a nap and others are standing up. One of them reaches out her hands when she spots us, just like in my sketch.
I feel as if I’ve left all my emotions back in the car. I run my fingers over the bars of one of the empty cots. It’s so hot in here the metal is warm to the touch. Little Bird is never hot, even in the summer. It took me ages to get used to it, but now I miss the cool air and the gentle breezes.
“So this is where the girls would have slept?” Dad says.
“Min Yen was two when she came to us – is that correct?” Miss Cheng asks.
Dad says, “Yes, that’s right. She’d just turned four when we adopted her.”
“This is the sleeping area for children up to the age of four,” Miss Cheng says. “Min Yen would have slept here to start with, but not Soon Yi. There are different rooms for different ages. Babies, younger children, older children.”
“So they were separated?” Mum asks. She sounds surprised.
Miss Cheng nods. “Yes, they would have been separated as soon as they arrived in the orphanage. Unless the siblings are a similar age – it’s the policy here.”
“I see,” Mum says. She and Dad exchange a look.
We visit my old room next, which has small metal beds instead of cots and a view of the trees outside. It hasn’t changed much from how I remember it. The walls are still the same creamy colour, but now there are posters over every bed – pictures of animals, Harry Potter, and Pokémon and manga characters. Then we visit a playroom, which has toys in plastic boxes, small tables and chairs, a bookshelf and art materials. There are drawings on the walls and I remember that I used to sit at one of the little tables, drawing pictures, mainly of Min and Puggy. The children in the room look up at us curiously. I remember staring at visitors in just the same way. I used to wonder if they were coming for one of us. Were they someone’s new family? I was only six when I arrived, but some of my friends in the orphanage were older and they explained how the system worked – how some children were adopted and others weren’t.
We all watched
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
in here together once. It was dubbed into Cantonese. When Charlie won the golden ticket, one of the boys jumped to his feet and said, “A new family, that’s the golden ticket I’d like to win.” We all laughed. But he was right. Every child in the orphanage dreamed of finding a new family.
After the playroom, Miss Cheng takes us to the large canteen, which smells so strongly of cooked vegetables that Min wrinkles up her nose until Mum nudges her to stop. “Don’t be rude, Min,” she whispers.
As we walk out of the canteen, Min drops back to talk to me. She lets Mum and Dad walk on a few steps with Miss Cheng before she says, “The crying babies from my dreams, the ones in the cots – this is where they come from.”
I nod.
“Sunny, were we happy here?” she asks softly.
I don’t know what to say. Is she ready to hear everything – the happy bits
and
the sad bits? Instead of answering, I pretend I didn’t hear my little sister’s question.
Chapter 19
Miss Cheng leads Mum and Dad out of the canteen and towards the front door. It looks like our tour is over, but there’s somewhere Miss Cheng hasn’t shown us, somewhere important.
I pull Min’s arm and, after making sure there’s no one around, I whisper, “Min, ask if we can visit the garden. I really need to see it.”
“The garden? OK,” she says, before darting down the corridor to shout to Mum and Dad.
Miss
“The children are resting right now, so we should be quiet,” Miss Cheng says, then shows us into a large, white, open room with a whirring ceiling fan above us. There are toddlers in the neat row of cots with metal bars. Some are taking a nap and others are standing up. One of them reaches out her hands when she spots us, just like in my sketch.
I feel as if I’ve left all my emotions back in the car. I run my fingers over the bars of one of the empty cots. It’s so hot in here the metal is warm to the touch. Little Bird is never hot, even in the summer. It took me ages to get used to it, but now I miss the cool air and the gentle breezes.
“So this is where the girls would have slept?” Dad says.
“Min Yen was two when she came to us – is that correct?” Miss Cheng asks.
Dad says, “Yes, that’s right. She’d just turned four when we adopted her.”
“This is the sleeping area for children up to the age of four,” Miss Cheng says. “Min Yen would have slept here to start with, but not Soon Yi. There are different rooms for different ages. Babies, younger children, older children.”
“So they were separated?” Mum asks. She sounds surprised.
Miss Cheng nods. “Yes, they would have been separated as soon as they arrived in the orphanage. Unless the siblings are a similar age – it’s the policy here.”
“I see,” Mum says. She and Dad exchange a look.
We visit my old room next, which has small metal beds instead of cots and a view of the trees outside. It hasn’t changed much from how I remember it. The walls are still the same creamy colour, but now there are posters over every bed – pictures of animals, Harry Potter, and Pokémon and manga characters. Then we visit a playroom, which has toys in plastic boxes, small tables and chairs, a bookshelf and art materials. There are drawings on the walls and I remember that I used to sit at one of the little tables, drawing pictures, mainly of Min and Puggy. The children in the room look up at us curiously. I remember staring at visitors in just the same way. I used to wonder if they were coming for one of us. Were they someone’s new family? I was only six when I arrived, but some of my friends in the orphanage were older and they explained how the system worked – how some children were adopted and others weren’t.
We all watched
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
in here together once. It was dubbed into Cantonese. When Charlie won the golden ticket, one of the boys jumped to his feet and said, “A new family, that’s the golden ticket I’d like to win.” We all laughed. But he was right. Every child in the orphanage dreamed of finding a new family.
After the playroom, Miss Cheng takes us to the large canteen, which smells so strongly of cooked vegetables that Min wrinkles up her nose until Mum nudges her to stop. “Don’t be rude, Min,” she whispers.
As we walk out of the canteen, Min drops back to talk to me. She lets Mum and Dad walk on a few steps with Miss Cheng before she says, “The crying babies from my dreams, the ones in the cots – this is where they come from.”
I nod.
“Sunny, were we happy here?” she asks softly.
I don’t know what to say. Is she ready to hear everything – the happy bits
and
the sad bits? Instead of answering, I pretend I didn’t hear my little sister’s question.
Chapter 19
Miss Cheng leads Mum and Dad out of the canteen and towards the front door. It looks like our tour is over, but there’s somewhere Miss Cheng hasn’t shown us, somewhere important.
I pull Min’s arm and, after making sure there’s no one around, I whisper, “Min, ask if we can visit the garden. I really need to see it.”
“The garden? OK,” she says, before darting down the corridor to shout to Mum and Dad.
Miss
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