THREE YEARS LATER

As Finley awoke, she became aware that someone was jumping on her.

Her eyes flew open, then squinted in the early morning sunlight. It would be a gorgeous day.

"She's awake!"

That voice belonged to Jackson, a young orphan boy.

"Good morning, Finley!"

That was his twin sister, Jessie.

The two had lost their parents in a terrible accident a few years ago, when they were only three years old. After drifting in and out of different foster homes, they'd ended up here, at the Pink Palace.

For you see, Coraline had decided that—while adopting Finley was a wonderful thing to do—there were countless more young children like her who needed a home.

That's why, a few months after their close-call in Oregon, Coraline and Finley had agreed to the idea of starting a home for orphans.

It wouldn't be a dull place, like some orphanages, they agreed.

And unlike FFHOO, only kind people would work there.

They put their hearts and souls into the foundation of their new orphanage, and ran it themselves. They both agreed to call it the 'The Pink Palace', although it was often referred to simply as: "The Palace".

"All right, I'm awake," Finley laughed, gently pushing the twins off her and stepping onto the cold wooden floor.

The building was the original Pink Palace itself, although it had gone through several renovations before anyone was allowed to stay there permanently.

The door in the living room had been completely covered, for one thing.

Finley had overseen the painting of the interior as well, and it was no longer the boring color it had once been.

When Coraline had asked Wybie what he thought of the idea, he had offered the building to her at once.

"It'll be so nice to have the grounds used once again," he'd said. "Places like the Palace are meant to be explored."

Coraline agreed wholeheartedly.

For the first few months, Wybie had come to help out at the Palace with some minor repairs every weekend.

Three years later, however, he was a permanent guest.

There were many repairs to be done, he told them. There were plants that needed to be researched by a scientist like himself.

(Plus, Coraline and Spencer were no longer together, something Wybie was glad about.)

From the moment Spencer heard about Coraline's plans to open an orphanage, he opposed it.

"How can we keep our relationship alive if you're off on the other side of the country taking care of a bunch of orphans?"

"You're right," Coraline told him. "We can't."

So she broke up with him.

Now that Wybie was living at the Palace, and seeing Coraline everyday, Finley thought her mother had become much less grumpy and much more cheerful.

Most of the time, anyway.

There were always those moments when one of the children needed a little scolding, such as when Dalton (who was eleven) had tried to camp out in the forest at night without permission.

Or when Sarah (who was seven) had refused to brush her teeth for three days in a row.

But for the most part, Finley could see great improvement in her mum.

"It's time for breakfast," Jessie said, pulling on Finley's arm.

"Hold your horses," Finley told her. "I'm coming!"

"We don't have any horses," Jackson told her, eyeing her suspiciously. "Do we?"

"I wish we did, though," Jessie sighed. "I'd name it 'Butterscotch', and ride all over the forest."

"Butterscotch?" her twin laughed. "That's a dumb name for a horse."

"I think it's a fine name, Jackson," Finley interjected, trying to stop the twins' bickering before it escalated.

Jackson and Jessie rarely quarreled—but when they did, it never ended well.

"Now come along, you two. I can already smell—beets."

All three laughed.

No matter what food was served in the Palace, whether breakfast, lunch, or dinner, you could be sure there were beets in it.

Because the chief was none other than Mr. B himself.

He had readily accepted the new situation, and since he had once worked as a cook in a small restaurant in his home country (or so he told them), Coraline was happy to accept him into their new family.

Finley was also glad to have him, but made him promise never to cook any 'recipes', which he agreed never to do.

His food wasn't great, but it wasn't bad, either, and the beets he used in every dish did seem to improve the children's health.

The children needed hearty meals for energy, because the Palace boasted one of the best (and most vigorous) theatre classes in the country.

These classes were taught by none other than Miss Spink.

"I need something to do, now that I'm old," the former actress had chuckled, "and what better occupation than training the next generation of theatre enthusiasts? Besides, dear—moving all my things out from the Palace and into another building would've been too great a burden on my fragile body."

Miss Spink had been kidding, of course, about the 'fragile' part. In truth, she had begun doing yoga with Mr. B, and the two of them were never lacking in energy. (Perhaps they're also falling slightly in love, Finley hoped.)

Finley, with the twins in tow, made it to breakfast in one piece, but a few minutes late.

The table was set and everyone else seated.

Finley took her place beside her mother, who greeted her with a smile.

"Good morning, dear," she said.

"Good morning, Mum."

The whole room echoed with cries of, "Good morning, Finley!" from the other children.

Normally, the Palace had about twenty-five or so children. Most of them were under ten years old, although the eldest was seventeen.

(So far, only one child had left after coming to the orphanage, and that was under unusual circumstances. But that's another tale for another time.)

The family ate breakfast with much chatter.

Breakfast at the Palace was the time for planning your day.

"I'm going swimming before lunch," a boy named Eli called. "Anyone else wanna come?"

"Me!" exclaimed Emma, who was nine, and never missed a chance to be around Eli.

"We do," shouted the twins simultaneously. "And Finley will come with us. Right Finley?"

Finley looked up from a plateful of scrambled eggs and swallowed before replying. (It was a rule that no one could talk with their mouths full at the table. Since the children had a whole day to plan out, and thus a lot of talking to do, breakfast time sometimes had to be extended.)

"Sorry," Finley answered the twins. "I'm helping Miss Spink today."

"You know, children," Miss Spink told them from her place next to Mr. B, "Finley may very well be a famous actress someday."

Finley had found a new passion—acting.

She loved the feeling of taking on a character's personality, actions, feelings. And according to Miss Spink (and everyone else who watched her perform), she was very good at it.

"I'm going to explore the woods after breakfast," announced six-year-old Lyle.

"No, you aren't," said Coraline, playfully. "Don't you have school until noon?"

Lyle sulked for a few minutes, then asked, "Can I explore after class?"

"It's 'may I'," Coraline smiled. "And yes."

"Thanks, Mom!"

Finley felt a happy, warm, fuzzy feeling inside as she helped clear away the dishes.

Every single one of the orphans who stayed at the Palace thought of Coraline as their mother.

It's ironic, Finley thought. In a way, Coraline is carrying on the title of the 'Other Mother'.