They watch the sun rise. It's the most refreshing feeling to know that it rises on a positive note. Sleeping children off a midnight train, bleary eyed adults who take them in their arms. Blanche asks if she has anything stronger than tea when Sylvia paces back and forth, wanting to check on the girls again.
She's a strong woman, Miss Fuller. She pulls out a bottle of single malt and they make a considerable dent in it before Sylvia stops pacing and instead sits close to her on the settee, her head lolling.
"You're incredibly brave." Blanche says, "Taking on children like that."
"They deserve it. All children deserve to be with people that will love and cherish them." she stares into the fire. "Do you have children, Doctor Mottershead?"
"No." Blanche smiles sadly, "No I do not."
"They are as much yours as mine tonight, then." Slyvia sleeps tucked up against Blanche's arm, half empty scotch glass still in her hand.
