Lets get something right out of the way. I don't get it either. I'm starting to think that's the point. 
 The Children's Home is a delightfully strange little story that starts you out going "Huh?" and leaves you thinking "What the FUCK was that?". 
 It's beautifully written. It's reminiscent to me of Gaiman at his most obtuse. The whole piece is a work of lovely, arch storytelling. Settings and characters are drawn, not with exposition, but with confetti scattered through a dreamlike fog of not-quite-understanding. Lambert just shrouds everything in layers of gauze, like half-glimpsed memories of being very, very, young. 
 The glory of it is that despite that, you never get to the point of wanting to put it down. You soldier on, looking for clues, questioning everything, hunting for meanings that are just out of reach. You desperately want to know whats going on, as urgency and tensions rise, to you know not what end. Suddenly, an end is laid out before you, surrealistic storm waves of text-become-images crashing into each other with a crescendo; and then suddenly calm again. 
 And you are still no wiser than you were before. 
 Bravo Mr Lambert. Don't add another word. Don't let them pressure you into a sequel. 
 Let the mystery live.