Susanna Bailey

“covered in stickers, scribbled notes and photographs of children. Addie wondered who the children were and whether they all lived here, with Ruth and Sam. Whatever Penny and Ruth were planning, Addie’s photo was never going on that fridge. She strained to hear what Penny was saying to Ruth. Penny had her serious face on, which was worrying. Ruth was nodding. She glanced over at Addie, her eyes soft and watery. Like the police officer’s eyes, just before she made Addie let go of Mam’s hand. ‘Almost done, Addie,’ she said, smiling. She turned back to the stove, stirred her pan of milk, as if everything was normal. As if everything was fine. Ruth didn’t look like a foster carer. Not like Dawn anyway. Dawn, with her pink hair and high heels, her endless phone calls, her high-pitched”
― Susanna Bailey, Snow Foal

“She put her briefcase on the table. Addie stared at it. She knew all about that briefcase, with its files full of secrets and lies. She looked away. She was freezing cold, even in Ruth’s warm kitchen. Her toes felt as if something was biting them. And she was thirsty. ‘Yes,’ she said to Ruth. ‘Hot chocolate. Please.”
― Susanna Bailey, Snow Foal