Oliver watched Lucy with envy as she packed her things, ready to leave the children’s home. Her new mum and dad were finalising the paperwork, and soon she would have a family of her own. Lucy chattered excitedly about her outings with themthe zoo Oliver had never visited, the puppet theatre where shed seen a real-life witch, and the homemade apricot jam with the stones still in it.
Oliver was five years old. For as long as he could remember, he had lived in the care home. Children came and went, disappearing one by one. When Charlie vanished, Oliver tugged at Mrs. Thompsons sleeve.
“Mrs. T, wheres Charlie gone?”
“Hes gone home, loveto a family,” she replied.
“Whats a family?” Oliver persisted.
“A family is where youre always wanted and loved,” she said softly.
“Wheres my family, then?”
Mrs. Thompson sighed, gave him a sad look, and said nothing.
After that, Oliver stopped asking. He understoodfamily was something precious, something he didnt have.
When Lucy disappeared for two days and returned in a pretty dress, her hair neatly done and clutching a new doll, Oliver cried. No one had ever taken him away, and he was sure no one ever would.
Then Mrs. Thompson walked in, carrying a jumper and trousers.
“Oliver, get changed. Youve got visitors coming.”
“Me?” Oliver blinked. “Who?”
“People who want to meet you.”
Oliver dressed, sat on the bench, and waited. Mrs. Thompson took his hand and led him to the visiting room, where a man and woman waited. The man was tall, with a beard and moustache. The woman was petite, slender, and beautifullike a rose, Oliver thought, with big eyes and thick lashes.
“Hello,” she said. “Im Emily. And you?”
“Oliver,” he answered. “Who are you?”
“Wed like to be your friends,” Emily said, “and we need your help.”
“What help?” Oliver glanced at the man.
The man crouched to his level. “Im James. We heard youre brilliant at drawing. Could you sketch a robot for us?”
Oliver puffed up. “Yes. What kind?”
James fetched a bag, pulling out a sketchbook, pencils, and a massive robotgleaming, brand new, its parts catching the light. Oliver gasped.
“Wow,” he breathed. “Its Optimus Prime! Hes the leader of the Transformers!”
“You like him?” James asked.
“Love him!”
“Keep the robot and pencils. Draw him for us, yeah? And for now, lets just chatlike mates.”
Oliver spent an hour with James and Emily, talking about his favourite things, the toys in the home, his creaky bed, and the shoes that let in the cold. Emily held his hand the whole time, and James ruffled his hair.
When Mrs. Thompson returned, Oliver didnt want to leave.
“See you next week,” James said. “Think you can finish the drawing?”
“Youll really come back?”
“Of course,” Emily whispered, hugging him so tight his ribs creaked. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” Oliver asked.
“Just dust, sweetheart.”
At dinner, Oliver ate quickly and rushed to his room where the robot lay. He marvelled at its movable limbs and swivelling head, then started sketching.
The older boys barged in.
“Blimey,” Tommy sneered, snatching the robot. “Gimme that!”
Oliver lunged. “Its not mine!”
Tommy laughed. “Nothing heres yours!”
They wrestleduntil a sickening crack left Oliver clutching just a leg.
Mrs. Thompson found him sobbing, blood dripping from his nose.
“Shame on you,” she scolded. “Toys are shared. Now its broken.”
“It wasnt mine!” Oliver wailed. “They lent it to me to draw!”
She softened. “Then draw.”
Oliver propped the broken figure against a box and sketched. By bedtime, hed filled a page. The next day, two more. Soon, the entire book was robots.
A week passed. “Are Emily and James coming?” Oliver asked.
Mrs. Thompson sighed. “Love, theyre probably not.”
Oliver cried himself to sleep, certain it was because hed broken the toy.
The next morning, Mrs. Thompson beamed. “Visitors for you!”
Oliver opened the doorand there they were.
“Fancy the zoo?” Emily asked.
Oliver burst into tears.
James crouched. “Whats wrong?”
Oliver fetched the sketchbook and broken toy. “Im sorry. Heres your robot.”
James laughed. “Its yours, Oliver! A gift!”
Relieved, Oliver handed over the drawings.
“Perfect!” James said. “Exactly what we needed. And dont worryIll fix him.”
At the zoo, Oliver gasped at the monkeys, giggling as they swung and munched bananas.
Back at their flat, Emily led him to a room with space-themed wallpaper, a race-car bed, and shelves of toys.
“Who lives here?” Oliver asked.
James and Emily sat on the floor, each taking a hand.
“Oliver,” James said, “we want you to stay. Forever. This is your room, your toys, your bed. If youd like you could be our son.”
Olivers breath hitched. “Your family?”
Emily nodded. “Our family.”
“But why? Im nobody. And I broke the robot.”
Emily cupped his face. “Youre not nobody. Youre ours.”
Oliver nodded, tears streaming.
James scooped him up, spinning him as Emily kissed his cheeks.
For the first time, Oliver had a familyhis own, real, and forever.
