The Most Magical Gift of All. Fiona Lowe

      The child’s little shoulders rose and fell. ‘When I come and see Min.’

      Sophie’s eczema burned with an insatiable itch. ‘But Min’s not here.’ She heard the slight rise of hysteria in her voice and tried to pull in deep, calm breaths, the ones that had kept her in control in a war zone. This wasn’t a war zone but it held its own terrors.

       I hate you, Sophie, I really hate you.

      She pressed her fingers to her now-throbbing temples. This situation was insane; she was quizzing an unreliable pre-schooler for information but she didn’t have much of a choice. Who dropped their child at a house without making sure there was an adult at home?

      She stepped into the room and immediately felt like a giant, so she sat down on the floor. ‘You know I’m Sophie, so what’s your name?’

      The child looked at her with enormous chocolate eyes. ‘Imogen.’

      ‘Imogen, do you know Dr Jack?’ The words snapped out in the brisk tone that always surfaced when she was nervous and she held her breath, wondering if the child would answer.

      The girl nodded. ‘His room’s over there. She pointed vaguely towards the door and giggled. ‘We dance to the Wiggles.’

      Sophie’s crowded brain saw Imogen point in the correct direction. If Imogen knew that was Jack’s room, then she knew the layout of the homestead. ‘Can you show me Min’s room?’