The nursing home smells of lemon-scented cleaner and medication. It’s oddly comforting and a far cry from the sterile hospital scent that most people expect.
I’ve been here long enough for this to feel like home, maybe even more so than any of the foster homes I bounced between growing up.
I was only supposed to be here for a few months to get some volunteer hours under my belt and boost my university application.
Straight after school, I wanted to work for a few years to make enough money to get into a university and fend for myself.