Chapter 296: Cammy’s Project (2)
Sister Olivia took Cammy’s hand in both of hers. "Sarah told me about your plan. I believe it’s a gift from above. So, I’m officially relieving you of your kitchen duties for the day. I think you have a much more important mission now."
Cammy smiled in relief. "Thank you. I was actually hoping to tour the grounds again. I want to take in every detail so I can speak clearly with the architect I plan to hire. I want to create something that works with the children’s routines and needs—not just something that looks good."
She turned to Sarah and took her arm. "And I’ll need your help. You know the ins and outs of their daily activities better than anyone. If we’re going to do this right, I need to know what the kids need most—from spaces for learning to safe play areas, even where the light hits best during nap time."
Sister Olivia nodded with approval. "Absolutely. If Sarah is willing, I think the two of you will make a formidable team."
Sarah gave a small laugh and stepped forward, her eyes glinting with quiet determination. "Willing? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Even if I had a thousand other things to do, I’d drop them all. These children are my priority. Always."
Cammy and Sarah began their tour at the front entrance of the orphanage, flanked by the faded archway that once gleamed with pride but now bore the dullness of time. The paint had peeled away, the signage barely legible. Cammy ran her fingers along the rough surface, her throat tightening.
"This gate..." she murmured. "It’s the first thing the children and visitors see when they arrive. It should welcome them, not remind them of everything they’ve lost."
Sarah nodded quietly beside her. "Many of the little ones cry the first time they step through here. They think they’ve been abandoned all over again."
Cammy turned away from the gate, her eyes already scanning the grounds. "We’ll change that. A new facade, a fresh sign, a path lined with flowers and light... a place that feels like hope, not punishment."
They moved toward the dormitories next. The hallway was dark, and the lighting flickered above them like a weary heartbeat. The rooms were cramped—too many beds pushed together, not enough space for books, toys, or even a sense of privacy.