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"Baby, please, please just shh,” Farah’s voice was on the edge of breaking as she held the small three-year old boy in her arms, cradling him as she gently rocked on the spot. For a moment, fear coursed through her veins with so much intensity it made her blood run cold, at the thought that, to be completely honest, Ricky might not even answer the door. Maybe he was out, or maybe he’d moved — or maybe, somehow, he knew it was her. And he didn’t want to see her. But her fears dwindled - just a little, in all fairness - at the sight of his front door eventually opening in front of her. And it was only then that she piped up again, voice still wavering while tears pooled in her eyes. “—Please say that I can come in, because if not then this journey’s gonna feel like a huge waste of time.”













