Latest News and Updates

Chapter 24 – The Truth Elisa drew in a shaky breath. “The night after the last thing you remember, we had an argument.” Aino waited. “You'd continued investigating Juhani after I asked you not to. You hadn't told me, and when I found out, I was angry.” “Okay.” Elisa looked at her. “Later that night, I tried to have sex with you.” Something in her voice made Aino's stomach tighten. “You didn't want to.” Aino frowned. “You told me you didn't want to. You told me no.” Elisa swallowed. “And I didn't stop when I should have.” For a moment, Aino simply stared at her. “What?” “You tried to get me to stop. I didn't.” “No.” Elisa's eyes filled with tears. “Aino—” “No.” Aino shook her head. “That's not true.” “It is.” “No, it isn't.” “Aino.” “Why are you lying to me?” Elisa flinched. “I'm not.” “Yes, you are.” The certainty in Aino's own voice surprised her. She wasn't trying to convince Elisa. She knew. She knew Elisa, and she knew herself, and what Elisa was describing simply had not happened. “I would remember that.” “You've forgotten several days.” “Not that.” “I wish you did.” “Stop.” Aino's voice sharpened. “Just stop.” Elisa fell silent. Aino's heart was beating too quickly now. “The last thing I remember is being with you. We had dinner. We watched a film. We went to bed together.” “I know.” “I was happy.” “I know.” “I love you.” Elisa looked away. “So don't sit there and tell me you did something like that to me.” “But I did.” “No.” “I did.” Aino stared at her. Something cold was beginning to spread through her chest. “Did I actually say no?” Elisa looked back at her. “Yes.” “Actually say it?” “Yes.” “And you heard me?” Elisa's face crumpled. “Yes.” “You knew I wanted you to stop?” “Yes.” Aino looked away. She remembered the blanket, the harmless weight of it across her legs and the way her whole body had tensed before she even understood why. She remembered Emma stopping during the diaper change because Aino had done the same thing again. Until now, those reactions had belonged to the blank space in her memory. Juhani. The shed. Being tied up. Things she knew had happened even if she couldn't remember them. Now there was something else inside that blank space too.  Elisa. Aino looked at Elisa. “So I was scared of you.” “Yes.” “And I left because of you.” “Yes.” Something inside Aino broke. For several seconds she couldn't speak. Her vision blurred so quickly that Elisa's face seemed to dissolve in front of her, and when Aino blinked, tears spilled down both cheeks. She tried to wipe them away, but the edge of the cast bumped clumsily against her face. She stared at it for a second, as if offended by its uselessness, then tried again. Pain shot through her arm. Elisa moved. “Aino—” “Don't touch me.” Elisa stopped immediately. The movement had barely begun, but it ended completely. She lowered her hand back into her lap. “Okay.” Aino stared at her through the tears. Something about that immediate obedience hurt almost as much as everything else. “You let me hug you.” Elisa's face tightened. “When you came in. I asked you to come here, and you let me hug you.” “I didn't know what you remembered then.” “But you found out.” “Yes.” “And then you stayed.” “For a little while.” “You gave me water.” Elisa looked down. “You stroked my hair.” “I know.” “I asked you not to stop.” A tear slipped down Elisa's cheek. Aino's voice broke. “And you knew.” “Yes.” The word was barely audible. Aino turned her face away. Only an hour ago, those things had felt safe. Elisa holding the cup carefully while Aino drank through the straw. Elisa's fingers moving slowly through her hair. The ridiculous comfort of having someone there who knew her, someone she didn't have to explain herself to. Now every one of those memories had something else underneath it. “You should have told me.” “I should have.” “Immediately.” “Yes.” “Then why didn't you?” Elisa was silent long enough that Aino finally looked at her again. “Because when I came in here, you looked at me the way you used to.” Aino said nothing. “And I wanted it back.” Elisa's voice cracked. “For a few minutes, I wanted to believe I could have it back. You were happy to see me. You wanted me close to you. And I—” She stopped and wiped quickly at her face. “I wanted to pretend nothing had happened.” Aino felt sick. “I asked if I could come home with you.” “I know.” “I thought I was going home.” Elisa closed her eyes. Aino looked down at her casts. “I can't even hold a cup properly.” Her breathing had become uneven again. “I can't get dressed. I can't brush my teeth properly. I can't change myself. I was lying here thinking about all the things I can't do, and then I thought it didn't matter because you'd help me.” Elisa made a small sound. Aino looked at her. “I trusted you.” “I know.” “Fuck you.” Elisa flinched. “Fuck you, Elisa.” “I know.” “Stop saying you know!” “Okay.” Aino began to cry properly then. There was nothing graceful about it. Her chest hurt, her nose was running, and she couldn't even wipe her own face. She hated Elisa for seeing her like this. She hated her for sitting there. She hated her for not coming closer. And underneath all of it, impossibly, horribly, she still wanted her to. That was almost the worst part. “How could you do that to me?” “I don't know.” “You don't know?” “No.” Elisa's voice was quiet. “Not completely.” “You always know.” “I thought I did.” Aino looked at her. Elisa took a breath. “I've started seeing a therapist.” For a moment Aino wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. “What?” “I went to see one after you left.” Aino wiped uselessly at her cheek with the back of the cast. “After I left.” “Yes.” “Before you knew what happened to me?” “Yes.” That stopped Aino. “When?” “The day you went to Kouvola. I didn't know you were there. I didn't even know you'd left Helsinki.” “Why?” Elisa looked down at her hands. “Because I knew I'd hurt you. Because I knew you'd been scared of me.” She swallowed. “And because I didn't want to keep being someone who could do that.” Aino stared at her for a long time. “Do you understand why you did it?” “Not yet.” It was such an un-Elisa answer that Aino almost laughed. Instead another tear ran down her face. “But I'm trying to understand,” Elisa said. Aino looked away. For a while neither of them spoke. The room had grown darker around them, and somewhere beyond the curtain Oskari shifted quietly in his bed. “I don't want to see you,” Aino said. Elisa went very still. “Not for a long time.” There was a pause. “Okay.” Aino looked at her. She had expected something else. An argument, perhaps. A question. Some attempt to turn a long time into something measurable and therefore manageable. None came. “I mean it.” “I know.” “I need you to leave me alone.” Elisa nodded. “I will.” Aino looked down at the casts resting across the blanket. She was crying again, although she wasn't entirely sure when she had started. “Keep going to therapy.” “I will.” “Even if I don't come back.” Elisa's face tightened. “Yes.” That was enough. Elisa stood and took her coat from the back of the chair. She put it on slowly, then looked at Aino one last time. She didn't come closer. She didn't reach for her hand or bend down to kiss her forehead. She didn't ask for a hug. “I'm sorry,” she said. Aino couldn't answer. Elisa turned towards the door. Aino watched her go. This was what she wanted. She knew that. She needed Elisa gone, and the fact that some frightened, aching part of her wanted to call her back didn't change it. Elisa reached the door. “Elisa.” She stopped and turned. Aino looked at the woman she loved and didn't know what would happen now. She didn't know whether she would ever forgive her. She didn't know whether they would ever find their way back to each other. But there was one thing she wanted Elisa to take with her. “I believe in you.”   The door closed behind Elisa with a soft click. Aino kept looking at it. For several seconds she could still picture Elisa standing there, one hand on the handle, her face wet with tears. I believe in you. The words had seemed important while Elisa was still in the room. Now that she was gone, Aino wasn't sure whether they had been kind or cruel. She wanted Elisa back. The thought came so quickly and with such force that Aino almost called her name. She pressed her lips together instead. That was the worst part. Knowing what Elisa had done had changed almost everything, but it hadn't changed that. Aino could still remember the relief of seeing her walk into the room. She could still remember her fingers moving gently through her hair. She could still love her. Aino closed her eyes. From behind the curtain came a small sound, as though someone had started to clear his throat and then reconsidered. Aino remembered Oskari. “Oh God.” “I've been trying very hard not to exist,” he said. Aino opened her eyes. “How much did you hear?” There was a pause long enough to answer the question. “Enough.” Aino turned her face towards the window. Fresh tears were already gathering in her eyes, and she was suddenly furious with them. Surely there had to be a reasonable daily limit. For a while Oskari said nothing. Then, quietly, “I can shut up for a while, if you want.” A tiny laugh escaped her. “Can you?” “Probably not. But I can try.” The laugh almost became another sob. Aino breathed through it. “You don't have to stay behind the curtain.” “You sure?” “No. But you can open it anyway.” The curtain slid aside. Oskari was sitting against his pillows. He looked at Aino only briefly before turning his attention towards the window, giving her the small mercy of not watching her cry. Neither of them spoke for a while. It was strange how much easier his silence was than everyone else's. Oskari wasn't waiting for an explanation. He didn't know enough to tell her what she should do, and apparently had enough sense not to try. Eventually he began talking. Not about Elisa, but about his little sister, who had sent him another voice message that afternoon. She had spent almost three minutes describing a dog she'd seen outside school and had apparently considered it essential that Oskari know the exact colour of its collar. Aino listened. From there Oskari wandered into other things: home, how bored he had become in the hospital, the things he planned to do once they finally let him out. He talked easily, without demanding much in return, and little by little Aino found herself answering. Then asking questions. Then smiling. It didn't make anything better. That was perhaps why it helped. After a while the conversation faded into another comfortable silence. “Can I ask you something?” Aino said. “Sure.” “You heard what Elisa and I were talking about.” Oskari's expression became more careful. “Yes.” Aino looked down at the casts across her blanket. “Do you think I'm stupid for still loving her?” “No.” The answer came without hesitation. Aino looked at him. “You don't even know her.” “No.” Oskari thought for a moment. “But I don't think feelings change just because you learn something you wish you didn't know.” Aino swallowed. For someone who had spent most of the day talking nonsense, he had an irritating ability to occasionally say exactly the right thing. “I asked her to leave.” “I know.” “I wanted her to stay.” “I know that too.” Aino's eyes filled again. Oskari immediately looked concerned. “Was that the wrong thing to say?” “No.” She blinked the tears away as well as she could. “That was why it was so hard.” Oskari nodded. He didn't tell her she'd made the right decision. He didn't tell her Elisa didn't deserve her, or that everything would be fine. He simply stayed there. Aino realised she liked him for that. A few minutes later Oskari started talking again, and this time Aino let him. By the time evening began to darken the window, she had laughed twice and learned considerably more about his little sister than she had expected to know. The pain was still there. Elisa was still gone. But the curtain between their beds remained open. By the time Emma came back to their room, the sky outside had gone completely dark. Aino had expected her to do one last check and disappear again, but Emma no longer had the little collection of things she usually carried from room to room. Instead, Bunny was tucked beneath one arm. “Elisa left him with me,” Emma said, placing Bunny carefully beside Aino. “She realised she hadn't given him to you.” Aino looked at Bunny for a moment. “Okay.” She pulled him closer. “Aren't you supposed to have gone home?” Aino asked. “My shift ended a little while ago.” Aino frowned. “Then why are you still here?” Emma smiled and pulled a chair into the space between the two beds. “I thought I'd stay for a bit.” Oskari shifted higher against his pillows. The curtain between their beds had remained open all afternoon, and now Emma sat almost exactly in the middle, close enough to talk to both of them without raising her voice. Aino felt unexpectedly touched by it. They talked for a while. Nothing important. Oskari told Emma about the voice message from his sister, and Emma asked Aino whether her headache had eased. The lights in the room had been dimmed for the evening, and gradually the sounds from the corridor became fewer and softer. Aino was exhausted, but she didn't want the evening to end. Sleep meant closing her eyes. Closing her eyes meant being alone with everything Elisa had told her. She looked at Emma. “Could you tell us a story?” Emma blinked. “A story?” “An evening story.” Aino wasn't entirely sure where the request had come from. It sounded childish once it was out loud, but she didn't take it back. Emma glanced at Oskari. He smiled. “I'd like one.” Something softened in Emma's face. “All right.” She settled more comfortably into the chair and thought for a moment. “There was an island,” she began. Aino pulled the blanket a little higher over herself. “It was far enough from the mainland that on misty mornings you couldn't see anything beyond the sea. There were smooth rocks along the shore, a forest in the middle, and a little river that came down from the hills. On the highest hill stood an old lighthouse that hadn't been used for many years.” “Did anyone live on the island?” Oskari asked. “Lots of animals did.” “What kind?” Aino asked. Emma considered this. “There was an old turtle who lived beside the river. A bear had a home in the forest, and there were rabbits in the meadow near the hills. And down by the sea lived a small otter.” Aino smiled. “I like the otter.” “You don't know anything about her yet.” “I still like her.” “All right,” Emma said softly. “Then we'll start with her.” The otter, she explained, knew her little piece of coastline better than anyone. She knew which rocks became warm first when the sun came out, where the water was deepest and which little pools were left behind when the tide went out. She had everything she needed there. But she had always wondered about the lighthouse. She could see it from the shore on clear days, standing on the distant hill. She had often decided that one day she would go and find out what was inside it. One day had simply never arrived. “Maybe she's scared,” Oskari said. Emma looked towards him. “Maybe she is.” “But she still wants to go.” “Very much.” Aino listened with her head resting against the pillow. “Does she go alone?” “She starts alone.” Something about the answer made Aino open her eyes. Emma continued. The otter followed the river inland. Before long she met the old turtle, who knew almost every path on the island and offered to show her which one led towards the hills. Farther on, they met the bear coming out of the forest, and when he heard where they were going, he decided to come too. “So she's not alone anymore,” Aino murmured. “No,” Emma said. “She isn't.” The story grew slowly from there. Every now and then Oskari added something: a bridge over the river, a place where wild strawberries grew beside the path. Aino decided there should be a field of flowers near the foot of the hill. Emma accepted these additions as though they had always been part of the island, weaving them into the story until it became difficult to remember which details had belonged to whom. Aino found herself picturing it clearly. The river. The forest. The warm rocks beside the sea. Three animals making their slow way towards a lighthouse on a hill. Outside their room, the hospital continued around them. Footsteps passed in the corridor. Somewhere in the distance a machine began beeping and then stopped. But inside the room there was only the soft light beside Aino's bed and Emma's voice. Eventually the animals reached the foot of the hill. “They should stop there,” Oskari said sleepily. Emma smiled. “Why?” “Because they've been walking all day.” Aino looked across at him. His eyes were already half closed. “He's right.” “Then that's what they do,” Emma said. The bear found them a sheltered place beneath the trees. The turtle knew where there was soft moss to sleep on, and the otter curled up between them with the lighthouse still visible through the branches above. “Do they get there tomorrow?” Aino asked. “Maybe.” Aino opened her eyes. “That's not an answer.” “No,” Emma agreed. “But it's the end of the story for tonight.” There was a quiet sound from Oskari's bed. “Will you tell us the rest tomorrow?” Emma looked at him, then at Aino. “Of course.” Aino smiled and closed her eyes again. She could still feel the hurt from earlier, heavy and raw somewhere inside her. Elisa was still gone. Nothing Emma had said had changed what had happened, and tomorrow Aino would still have to wake up in the same hospital bed and somehow begin figuring out what her life looked like now. But tonight there was an island. There was an otter sleeping beneath the trees with her friends beside her, and an old lighthouse waiting on the hill. And for a little while, that was enough.

Gosh I'm so happy this story has continued! I started following this on ADISC and followed you here! It took me a bit to catch up, but YAY!! 💞 🥳 I also love the science components. It can be easy for a story set about diapers to gloss over 'adult' topics, so I really appreciate it. If I may, and I mean this helpfully because I really do like the story: there are times when Clara, Daniel, or Lucas are chatting and I'd love a little more detail about their reactions / state of mind when saying it. For example, from the latest: I'd love to know if she was smiling, or gmriacing, or just matter-of-fact?  Just a thought! Thank you for writing this and updating so frequently!! 💜

I agree with this - I don't think I'd ever start a story at the newest chapter, unless it's a new author and I'm just trying to get a sense of their writing before diving in from the beginning. But I also don't think it's a bad idea to reintroduce characters and elements throughout a very long story. It can be fairly organic within the narrative, and can help people recall characters and details if it's a very long story.

Thank you so much!! 🥰 While it feels weird to be excited that my writing evoked anxiety, I am grateful that it means the scene was successful!! ( And I excuse it because I felt the anxiety while writing it 😂 ) 

Boy do I feel that! It's amazing to have so many active stories, but it can be difficult to remember to back in in the pages to see what else has been updated recently.  Thank you!! Greg's growth is definitely some of favorite right now 🥰 Also crazy fact: today marks not only the first anniversary of starting this story, but this chapter puts the total word count over 300,000! 😱 🎂 --- Chapter 62 --- “What did you do?” Lexi whispered to Charlie, who smiled behind his pacifier as he pushed a plastic half-circle through the rectangular hole of one of those shape squares. He pointed at it and looked at her, and her expression flattened into mild irritation as she arched an eyebrow. This made him giggle impishly as he grabbed the bridge shape and aimed it at the same hole as the previous. “He’s not gonna say,” Jimmy claimed, yet despite this, he leaned as far forward over the plastic table as possible to squint at Charlie’s face, who had to lean to the side to see what he was doing as he pushed the shape through the mismatched hole. “He was screaming in the naproom,” Bucky recounted as if he were a detective, trying to piece together the crime scene from the clues. Lexi pursed her lips and nodded, leaning back to tap on her bottom lip. Jimmy sat back with a shrug and opted to grab a shape to join Charlie’s game of “shape fits in wrong hole”. “Miss Sarah checked her phone, panicked, and ran in,” Bucky continued, and Lexi nodded. Then Jimmy nodded. Then Charlie nodded. “And she left the room with him still screaming for his Mommy.” Lexi gasped as she snapped her fingers. “Could that be it?” she asked Bucky, who looked at her, confused. Lexi shook her head and gestured a finger backward, as if to backtrack her logic. “Charlie’s brother is his guardian, not his parents.” “So?” Bucky asked in the least dismissive way one could ask that question. “Jimmy’s tried crying out to Santa, for what good it’s done him.” “It was a test,” Jimmy defended meekly, blushing and glaring down as he tried to push the circle into the square hole; Charlie pointed to the rectangle instead. “But do you ever cry for your Mommy or Daddy?” Lexi asked quietly, her eyes glancing over at the nurse who was their current stand-in for an authority figure, since both Sarah and Willaby were gone. “No! Fu –” Jimmy started and caught himself; his eyes widened as he glanced over his shoulder to see if the nurse caught it, and he sighed in relief when she smiled and waved at him. He waved back before turning back to Lexi and sneering. “Absolutely not.” Lexi looked to Bucky, who shook his head. “Maybe that’s a big deal here,” she suggested, and while Jimmy was quick to shake his head no, Bucky crossed his arms over his chest as he contemplated it. “I don’t see why it would pull the teachers from the class,” Bucky noted as he grimaced. “Kids cry for their parents at schools and daycares all the time.” “Kids, yeah. Not Littles.” Everyone around the shapes table heard Lily’s semi-authoritative, bratty voice, and almost universally reacted with annoyance (save Charlie, of course). “No one was talking to you, Lily,” Jimmy scoffed, turning to face her. “Go play your stupid princess games.” “Jimmy,” the nurse warned with a frown. “Be nice, sweetie.” “Yeah, Jimmy,” Lily sneered. “Be nice.” “Your point, Lily?” Bucky groaned. “Her point is,” Lexi started, lowering her voice and staring down at the hole shapes on the tabletop. “That’s a real mark of regression. Kids do it, so Littles try not to.” “Bingo!” Lily celebrated sarcastically, giving Bucky an incredulous look. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart?” “Bingo!” Charlie echoed, pushing another shape into the wrong hole, and the pacifier finally tumbled out of his mouth, bouncing lightly against his stomach as the clip did its job. “I did it!” “Good job,” Jimmy snorted as he leaned against the table, looking at him expectantly. “What happened when you were taken out of the class?” “Okay, kids, give Charlie some space,” the nurse sighed, standing up and waving her hand to signal them to back away. “Nurse Jennings, what’s going on?” Bucky asked for the third time since Charlie had come back to class. “Bucky, darling, I know it’s scary when things change,” the nurse cooed, leaning forward and resting her hands on her knees. If looks could kill, Bucky might have dropped a bomb with his expression. “But everything is okay, baby. Your teachers will be back as soon as possible, and in the meantime, just enjoy some free play time.” “I know things are okay,” Bucky countered, his blood pressure rising. “I’m asking what exactly is going on.” “Hmmm,” the nurse hummed as she stepped forward and reached her hand around his backside. “What are you –” “I thought so,” Nurse Jennings observed as she cupped his diapered bottom with one hand and placed her other on his chest to hold him still. “Mr. Fussypants needs a change!” Jimmy had barely held back from laughing at Bucky’s annoyed expression, and that was all it took to send him over the edge as he burst out laughing. Lexi couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping, but she quickly hid her face behind her hands. “ARGH!” Bucky exclaimed in frustration, throwing his head back dramatically and curling his hands into fists, but he wasn’t fighting her as she hoisted him up to her hip. Charlie leaned over, grabbed the crow plush, pulled him close, and patted his head. “Edgar stay with Charlie until Beuford gets new pants,” Charlie explained down at the two plushies. “Let’s see…” Nurse Jennings hummed as she assessed the room, her mouth twitching to the side in consideration. “Did you…?” Bucky asked, jarred from the moment, and looked down at Charlie, his eyebrows knitting together and lifting. “Edgar is safe, Beuford!” Charlie announced to him, and Bucky stared in disbelief. “I’ll leave the door open,” Jennings muttered to herself as she walked the stunned Little over to the changing room. “That was nice,” Lexi murmured to Charlie. “I wouldn’t call him that when the teachers get back,” Jimmy added with a grimace. “Okay,” Charlie nodded, pulling out the drawers of shapes under the table to start over, deciding he was absolutely going to do that when the teachers came back. Greg rubbed under his nose after parking the car, his mood having tanked the moment they pulled into the Little Steps parking lot and his heart now racing. “You’ve got this,” Sam encouraged quietly from the backseat, causing Kelly to nod in agreement. “We’ll be in and out,” Kelly added, and Greg nodded, flashing them an appreciative smile. “All right. Let’s get this over with,” he declared with a slight groan, and the three exited the vehicle, with Sam riding on Kelly’s hip with a blanket, Chonks the dragon, and a pacifier in her mouth. All of this served as things to hide behind or underneath, and she leaned against Kelly as she forced a yawn to work herself into a sleepy state. Greg stifled a groan in his throat when he saw both the director and Sarah waiting for them at the front desk. He opened the door for Kelly, who nodded in appreciation, and the aforementioned pair opened the second set of doors. “Thank you,” Kelly murmured to Sarah, who wrestled with the clear excitement of seeing Samantha and trying to keep the serious tone of the moment. Sam rubbed her eye to look tired and turned, hiding her face in Kelly’s chest; Sarah’s expression melted as she placed a hand on her chest before pulling herself together and stepping back. “Where is he?” Greg asked Sarah first, then looked to the director. “He asked to rejoin the class,” the director explained, pointing down the hall, then raising her hand immediately. “Mr. Vankor, I should like –” “I’m not here to discuss this anymore,” Greg cut her off, shaking his head as he stepped towards the class; he swallowed the pit in his throat that told him how rude that was. He honestly didn’t understand how his parents managed this. “Greg, please,” Sarah asked as she stepped aside, only partially blocking his path, as if she wasn’t fully committed to stopping him. “We want to apologize and make things right.” “Sarah,” Greg groaned, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as her interception worked and he halted his progress. “I just want to get him home.” “I know,” she somewhat whispered, nodding several times to confirm and licking her lips slightly. “But you should know, he was… unhappy when I told him he was going home. He’s back in class because that’s what he wanted, rather than wait for you out here.” “Oh, now you’re listening to him?” He couldn’t help it. The words burst from his mouth before he gave it any thought, though he couldn’t say he regretted it. Sarah paused, her mouth hanging open for a moment, then she swallowed and nodded. “It seemed like what you would have wanted,” she explained quietly, looking up at him with pleading in her eyes, and his expression softened. “Mr. Vankor, Miss Willaby would like to apologize,” Casper announced from behind, while Greg and Sarah maintained eye contact for a long moment. He could practically hear his resolve cracking. “I’ll see my brother first,” Greg asserted quietly, finally breaking eye contact with her to glance over his shoulder at Casper. “Then we can… go from there.” “Of course,” Casper nodded and gestured down the hall. “By all means.” Nodding, he made brief eye contact with Sarah again before turning and walking down the hall, hearing the hurried pace of Kelly behind him. It wasn’t a long walk, but it was enough time for him to realize how little he and Sarah had connected or spoken since their fight. “Knock,” Sarah declared in a hushed tone, stretching her arm out as if to stop him from opening the door. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob, and glanced at her. “So you don’t hit anyone.” “Ah,” Greg said and knocked firmly on the door twice. “All clear!” chirped an unfamiliar voice on the other side after a few seconds’ delay. Greg opened the door slowly to relative silence, and his eyes immediately dropped downward to look at the sea of Little faces staring back at him. His eyes landed on Lexi first, whose face lit up with surprise and delight, and she stretched her arm to tap Charlie’s shoulder, who spun around to face the door. He let out an audible gasp. “GEGGIE!” he screamed in excitement, throwing his arms up in the air, which sent a plastic shape flying across the room, and he screamed all the way to his brother. Greg laughed as he stepped into the room and knelt to meet his brother for a hug. “Hey buddy,” Greg greeted him quietly. “Ready to go home?” “Vankor?” A voice spoke up before Charlie could answer, and he opportunistically let himself be distracted by it. Greg frowned, recognizing the voice as Little but not knowing it offhand. He began to search for the source when the nurse bounced a dark-skinned Little on her hip, angling her head dramatically to look at him. “What was that, Bucky-dear?” she asked quietly, and Greg’s eyes met the Little who was staring at him in shock. “So that’s Charlie… Vankor?” he repeated as he pointed to Charlie, who now spun around and beamed. “Holy sh –” “Bucky,” the nurse warned, giving him a slight, disapproving jostle. “Everyone, this is Charlie’s brother and guardian, Mr. Greg,” Sarah chuckled as she slipped into the room and beckoned Kelly in, who winced slightly and entered quietly, keeping her and Sam against the wall. “Geggie, dats Beuford,” Charlie introduced as he pointed to the Little. “He’s smart.” “Oh yeah?” Greg smiled down at Charlie, then back up to Beuford. “His name is Bucky,” Sarah corrected, but she faltered when Greg shot her a look. “I mean - that’s - just –” “Hi, Beuford,” Greg greeted pointedly and waved to the Little, who the nurse set down on the ground. “It’s nice to meet you.” “Hi… It’s nice to meet you too, sir,” Beuford smiled. “That’s Lexi, you know,” Charlie chirped as he continued, pointing to Lexi, who waved eagerly at Greg. “This is Jimmy; he’s funny.” “Hey, Lexi. Hi, Jimmy,” Greg greeted each one at a time, giving them eye contact and a nod. Jimmy appeared charmed by Charlie’s assessment. “Dis is Lily; she’s bossy.” Lily smirked and curtsied. “Allie, she’s nice.” Allie looked surprised to hear this. “Hi, Twins!! I dunno your names!” Charlie yelled at them and waved, then looked up at Greg. “They’re shy.” “I’m Amelia,” the one with the white swan said, then gestured to her twin with the black swan. “This is Emma.” “It’s nice to meet you,” Greg greeted warmly, removing his hand from Charlie’s back and placing it on his chest. “I’m Greg.” “Vankor?” Bucky reiterated in a questioning tone. “Yes. Do you recognize me?” Greg asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, noting that Bucky was scrutinizing his face. “Yeah, my, eh… parents followed your case closely,” Bucky explained as his cheeks reddened slightly as he looked down. “Bucky’s a lawyer,” Charlie explained. “A –” Sarah opened her mouth and stopped; all the Littles looked at her expectantly, Bucky’s eyes rolling up in anticipation, but when she stopped, his head jerked over to stare at her, surprised and confused. Charlie smiled at Sarah, and she stared down at him, her eyes flicking between him and Greg. “Uh… yeah, I was,” Bucky continued warily, looking between Sarah and Greg with confusion. “My, erm… Mommy’s a lawyer and Daddy’s a judge.” “Ahh,” Greg nodded. “KELLYYY!!” Charlie burst with excitement, jumping up and down as he pretended to have only just now seen her. She let out a laugh and lifted a finger to her lips, then pointed to Sam, who waved lazily down at Charlie. He slapped his hands over his mouth and nodded in understanding, then waved back. “All right, bud, you ready to go?” Greg asked, forcing himself not to plead, as he placed a hand on his Little brother’s back. He felt a pit drop in his stomach when his Little brother spun to face him, looking upset at that idea. “School’s not over!” he complained, throwing his arms out and slapping them at his sides. Greg opened his mouth, but no words came, and he let out a long, pained sigh; Kelly lifted the blanket over Sam, who muffled a laugh into the Amazon’s chest. “Well… I get that…” Greg started, hoping to get a little more of an explanation. “But I got a call saying you weren’t having fun.” Charlie recoiled a little bit and stuck out his lower lip, casting his eyes downward. He looked as if he was the one in trouble. “It’s fun,” he contested in a raised register. “I’m not, um… gonna be a spoiled brat anymore. Promise.” Greg blinked, his brain seizing for a moment; for a split second, he feared he had called his brother that, and that, in turn, the school had told him, but he knew it was unfounded. He could hear the words he had picked vividly: annoying, pushy, stubborn. All words Charlie would grin at. “What?” Greg whispered as he squinted at him. Charlie kept his head down, and the Amazon brother briefly looked up at Sarah, who shook her head and shrugged, looking just as confused. “Charlie, what are you talking about?” “Miss Willabees,” he added quietly, lazily gesturing his arms towards the naproom. “She said I’mma spoiled brat.” Kelly’s breath caught, and Sarah’s eyes widened as she lifted a hand to her mouth. “…Ooooooh,” Jimmy hooted with a grin. “Shut up,” Bucky hissed as he elbowed his classmate. Greg stared at Charlie for a long moment, feeling a brief temptation to laugh at that, because both of them would agree that Charlie was, in fact, a spoiled brat. But the context was important. Greg saw the world begin to blur as his eyes lost focus while he registered the order of events as he knew them: Charlie had been disruptive, he was being put down for a nap in retaliation, and either before he pulled the Mommy trigger or after, the teacher had called him a spoiled brat. The most logical conclusion was before, and that Charlie pulled the trigger as a result. All of this to say, Greg now understood the assignment. He blinked as his eyes came back into focus and wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him into a hug. “You’re not a brat, bud,” Greg reassured him gently, and then positioned himself to lift him up as he stood. “Wait,” Charlie began as he pointed to the ground. “You’ll come back,” Greg reassured him as he flashed a smile to his brother’s classmates. “We’ve just got something to do first.” “Wait! Greg!” Lexi called out as he grabbed the plump raccoon plush and lifted it up towards Greg. “He goes everywhere Charlie does.” “Thanks, Lexi,” Greg smiled at her as he took the plush and handed it to Charlie, noting the raccoon and its costume, but he was too focused on his mission to make a comment. He looked to Sarah. “I’m ready to talk to the director and Miss Willaby now.” Sarah paused, stared at Greg for a beat, and slowly nodded. “Of course,” she breathed as she opened the door, nodding to the nurse who returned it and remained. Kelly hesitated before following, and just before the classroom door shut, nearly all of the Littles let out a “Whooooaa.” About halfway down the hall, Kelly reached out and touched his arm. “Greg?” she asked quietly. “Should we go to the car? Or wait in the lobby?” Greg stopped his march and inhaled sharply; logically, he understood if he was going to cause a scene, having an anxious Little present made no sense. But he also understood Sam likely didn’t want to leave… and frankly, he didn’t want her to either. Even though he didn’t expect a single one of them to chime in, their presence alone gave him strength he didn’t think he had. “That would probably be best,” Sarah interjected. “No,” Greg said firmly as Charlie shifted in his arms, looking between everyone. “I want her here for this. It’s important to me…” he paused, briefly glancing at Sarah, who looked confused (and frankly, judgmental), and he turned to face Kelly, lifting the blanket to see Sam’s face. She was wide awake, pacifier still in her mouth, and she looked up right at him, curiosity written all over her face. Greg smiled. “It’s important to me that you see this… I need you to see that you - both of you - deserve respect.” Sam smiled, her eyes watering slightly, and nodded. “Oh, and, uh,” he paused again, glancing between the two of them. “I might get a little loud.” Sam lifted her hands to cover her ears, and Charlie laughed and followed suit. “Perfect,” Greg grinned. “Greg, I don’t –” Sarah started but stopped short again when he looked at her. She tried to find the words, but Greg shook his head and continued walking. “Greg,” she insisted as she began to keep pace with him. “Greg, please –” “Sarah,” he interrupted mere steps from the front desk, where the woman seated at it was frantically typing. He turned to face her and raised a hand, lowering his voice. “This is where you work, so let’s keep this professional. Sam’s presence right now is my call as a parent. Would you tell any other parent here they can’t do this?” Sarah’s lips parted as her eyes drifted downward for a moment, her face tensing and contorting as she argued with herself. Greg arched an eyebrow, too focused on the task ahead to evaluate her expressions or even wonder what she was struggling with; her eyes darted down the hall, and her shoulders slumped as she shook her head. “No,” she admitted quietly. “Thank you,” he whispered, flashing her a brief smile before turning around to see Casper had already emerged from her office and was briskly walking their way. Her eyes tracked Charlie in his arms first, then over to Sam, then to him. “Mr. Vankor,” she greeted with a slight question in her tone, and an eyebrow twitched. “Director,” he greeted in kind and lifted his head slightly. “I’d like to see Miss Willaby now.” “Very good,” Casper replied, and for a moment, her eyes darted to two Littles. But unlike Sarah, Casper either didn’t mind their presence or had the professionalism to withhold her opinion on the matter. Greg followed the woman into what appeared to be her office, where a grey-haired woman sat in a chair in front of the desk, head bowed, rubbing her forehead. “Miss Phoebe Willaby,” Casper called out as she approached her desk, spun around to face the rest of the room, and gestured to Greg. “This is Mr. Greg Vankor, Charlie’s guardian.” Greg stepped in enough to give space for Sarah and Kelly to file in behind him, though he didn’t want to move too far in. Despite his racing heart and focused anger, he had no desire to overtly intimidate or get in her face. His mind briefly flashed to the moment he did as much to Karen. And worse, when the teacher stood and turned to face him, he saw an older woman who had likely worked here for decades. He saw the worry in her eyes, and he tensed for a moment, guilt creeping in… even looking at her forehead didn’t help; he could see the lines of worry from her tightly knitted, upturned eyebrows. “Hello, Mr. Vankor,” Miss Willaby greeted him, reaching out for a handshake. When her eyes met his, she changed her mind, swallowed, and drew her hand back, inclining her head instead. Greg returned the greeting. Her eyes then fell to Charlie, who waved as he curled up against his brother’s chest. She then looked behind him, and Greg looked to Kelly. “This is Kelly, our nanny. And this is Samantha,” he introduced, gesturing to both of them one at a time, and each smiled and nodded. “And you know Charlie.” “Hi, Miss Willabees,” Charlie greeted quietly with a shy wave. “Hello, Charlie,” Willaby replied with a nod. “Please,” Casper said, indicating the chairs, and Greg passed it in favor of Kelly, gesturing her towards it. Blushing, she nodded as she quietly moved towards the chair and gently sat down, adjusting Sam, Chonks, and the blanket into a comfortable position. He and Sam’s eyes met and they flashed a smile at one another. Casper nodded approvingly, then cleared her throat. “Miss Willaby.” “Yes,” the teacher said, clearing her throat and looking down at the ground as her expression shifted. “Mr. Vankor, I –,” She looked up and paused, her eyes falling on Charlie, her eyebrows twitching; Greg’s own arched slightly as he watched her shift from completely apologetic to more professional and in control by the time she looked at him. “I am mortified at the events of this morning, and I am very sorry for how I handled it.” Greg nodded, as he tended to do to acknowledge someone who spoke, but he wasn’t sure quite how he wanted to proceed, so he let a silence linger as he considered. Should he favor his mother’s manner of handling things, which he wasn’t inclined to do, he’d come out swinging right away. Give her no quarter and verbally pummel her until he was satisfied (which he wouldn’t be, so perhaps until he felt Charlie was satisfied). He had all the arguments and condemnations in the barrel, so to speak, but he favored his father’s methods. Ask questions, make them squirm, and select precise moments to attack. Charlie shifted slightly in his arms, and a gentle crinkling that would normally be mundane background noise felt amplified by the silence. Greg glanced at him, and the corner of his mouth tugged upwards in gratitude. “I’d like to understand the order of events better,” Greg said as he looked over to Casper first, then Willaby. “And why they happened at all.” “I think that’s fair,” Casper admitted with a curt nod and turned a sharp look to Willaby. “Of course,” she replied in a hushed tone, averting her eyes. “It is, ehm, my policy not to review new students too much. I prefer to get to know them organically, rather than what any paperwork says. So,” she heaved, her voice slightly unsteady as her eyes darted around the room. The only person who gave her any kind of sympathetic look was Sarah, but that was only because Kelly was staring straight down, trying to pretend she wasn’t there. “I was unaware that your brother is…” she chuckled awkwardly in the pause, gesturing nervously. “Well, frankly, that he doesn’t need the class, but that he was joining under special circumstances.” Greg frowned and nodded, impressed that she wasn’t going for the easy route of ‘I didn’t know he was a Vankor’. “So, I thought he was newly diagnosed and being rather… performative.” Greg blew stiffly out of his nose, while Charlie tilted his head to the side in confusion. “And even if he were, does a performance merit punishment?” Greg questioned in annoyance, feeling heat build in his chest, irritated by the no-win scenario Littles were constantly put in. Willaby opened her mouth but hesitated, her eyes flicking around the room in slight confusion. “We certainly don’t want Littles to feel the need to perform,” she explained, and Greg raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “But to be more precise, Charlie was –” Again, her nerves caused her to pause. “Struggling to keep to the schedule and… being disruptive.” The room fell silent. Casper nodded, waiting for a response, while Greg’s mind exploded with an immediate reply he was curtailing and running through a filter. He wanted his point to be salient and ironclad, and wasn’t willing to risk that by giving in to his anger. “Is that… not a symptom of Maturosis?” The question didn’t feel good leaving his mouth, but only because, up to this point, he felt he had argued on Charlie’s behalf without actually acknowledging the “disease” or speaking about him as if he were a toddler. Like on the phone, he had wanted to walk a fine line of arguing for Charlie without stooping to lying about his view on Littles. But in his reminder of his argument with Sarah, he thought it might be best to start fighting within the logic of their own sandbox. And just as if it were yesterday, he began echoing the very words Sarah used on their first date. “Failure to meet responsibilities. A lack of remorse for such failure. The reduction in social awareness. An increase in selfishness. Self-centeredness. Loss of time management skills, loss of time awareness,” he listed off in rapid succession, barely registering Charlie’s soft giggle. “The world suddenly revolves around them, but that world has also dramatically shrunk. See, I’m very familiar with these symptoms, Miss Willaby, because they’re remarkably similar to Lethetic’s Disease. Are you familiar?” “Yes,” she replied quietly, her eyes briefly glancing to Casper; the director’s lips were pursed, and she remained rigid, appearing ready to pounce, yet she did not intervene. “My father has it, so I’ve had the pleasure of caretaking him, my brother, and now my daughter. And yet no circumstance would I ever — ever — consider punishing any of them for having symptoms of a disease.” “It wasn’t a punishment, it—” Willaby tried to defend herself, her face beginning to turn red and harden. “You separated him from the class,” Greg countered sharply. “Naps are not punishment, Mr. Vankor,” she scoffed. “It was retaliatory. You practically said so yourself,” he objected, his eyebrows furrowing; Willaby’s head jerked backward, momentarily at a loss for words. “Which Miss Willaby has apologized for,” Casper clarified, and Greg glared at her before he thought it through. “No, she’s apologized for the results,” he refuted, his heart hammering in his chest, and he could sense he was giving in to his anger. A second of that recognition helped him reel it back in. “So I can only imagine this has happened before, but Charlie is the first to react this way.” Greg paused, then his eyebrows tightened.”Or the first to be taken seriously.” The muscles in Casper’s neck tensed as she put considerable effort into not changing her semi-neutral expression. “The class is not designed for someone with advanced Maturosis,” Willaby jumped in with a defensive sigh and scoff. “I would have said as much had I known.” Casper’s eyes darted to Willaby as her eyes widened slightly, and Greg turned his gaze back to her as Sarah seemed to shrink away in the background. “Miss Willaby, are you saying my authorization of Charlie into your class is the reason you cannot manage your own classroom?” Casper cut in, over-enunciating through her anger, and although her overall expression still remained somewhat guarded, every feature was tensed and straining against the fury she was barely holding back. The temperature in the room seemed to change. “N-no, director, no, I —“ Willaby flustered; Sam caught Greg’s eye and held eye contact for a moment. They shared a silent, mutual satisfaction that Willaby had tried to divert blame to Casper, and that turned the director against her; however, deep down, Greg was mildly disappointed he wasn’t able to get the full debate he had always dreamed of with people like her. “Are you so inflexible that your only recourse to correct a disruption was to remove a student from your class?” “No, it - it -“ “That will be all, Miss Willaby.” Director Casper gestured to the door. “Do not return to the class. I will have a word with you after this.” “Before that,” Greg quietly added, thinking far too late that he should have winked at Sam before speaking up. Up to this point, he had been able to manage the debate and turn up the pressure, but he was quickly losing his opportunity. “I’d like Miss Willaby to apologize to Charlie.” Casper’s jaw moved slightly. “For calling him a spoiled brat,” Greg added with a cold fury. Casper was visibly alarmed by this and completely taken aback. She turned to Willaby, whose expression was frozen in concern and confusion, but her face paled slightly. Her eyes darted around a few times, and she made a guttural noise in her throat before any words came out. “I…” She paused and scoffed again, her face finally breaking its frozen expression. “Mr. Vankor —“ “Charlie!” Charlie bubbled and pointed to himself. Willaby’s eyes widened as she resisted glaring at him, though her tightly pressed lips gave her away. “I didn’t call him one,” Willaby finally managed in her defense. “I said I was accustomed to spoiled brats.” “So you implied it,” Greg dismissed, setting his jaw. Her reaction confirmed to him that Willaby, like many of his kind, was obsessed with the power dynamics around them. Littles were largely at the bottom of the hierarchy, whether Adopted or not; so the idea of apologizing to one, of admitting fault and blame directly to them, felt like a release of power that someone like Willaby couldn’t abide. “You called him a bad name,” Sarah chimed in, putting on her teaching voice. “And it hurt his feelings.” Willaby’s face instantly flushed red as she glared at her subordinate, looking crazed for a brief moment. Upon inhaling, she looked as if she had collected herself, but then — “I QUIT!” she bellowed, throwing her arms into the air. “That’s what you all want, isn’t it?! Fine! I quit!” “You can’t,” Casper growled, angling her head down as she glared at Willaby. “Your contract requires you to fulfill a semester before voluntarily quitting. And since I know this is not for any emergency reasons, you will finish this semester of work.” “And that isn’t what I want,” Greg clarified as he adjusted Charlie, who smiled widely and kicked his legs happily. Red-faced, her eyes straining and on the verge of tears, she clenched her hands into fists, and her entire body shook. She was a trapped animal, with only one recourse, and her entire nervous system was fighting. Willaby breathed through her nose, the noise filling the air as all eyes remained on her. She swallowed, which appeared difficult for her, and her mouth twisted in a sort of sneer. “I… am sorry,” she scowled quietly. “I forgive you!” Charlie chirped loudly, and Willaby held her breath as she stared at him, grimacing. Casper gestured to the door, and Willaby stomped out, letting out a frustrated cry just before the door shut. “Well, that was embarrassing. Mr. Vankor, I am so sorry. I am… mortified,” Casper sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as she centered herself. “I go back?” Charlie asked, barely giving the room a moment to breathe; Greg's lips thinned. After all that, his Little brother still wasn’t satisfied and ready to go home. Worse, the Amazon brother just knew that meant he wasn’t done coming here altogether. Somewhere in the back of Greg’s mind, he was laughing and calling his brother a brat. But it was largely overshadowed by the unease he felt being unable to make a clean break from this place. “Charlie would like to say goodbye to his classmates,” Greg sighed, rubbing his eyebrow as his throat tightened. If he was reading his brother right, he needed to figure something out with Casper without revealing how much Greg was abiding by Charlie’s wishes. He needed to thread the needle of making her believe he still wanted to pull his brother out, while letting her court him back in. His palms began to sweat. “Maybe he can go back to the class… and you and I can discuss some… possibilities.” Casper opened her eyes, quickly oscillating between relief and surprise. “Of course,” she breathed quickly, flashing a brief smile. “Sarah, you will finish out today’s lesson and take over the class from here.” Sarah stepped up with a slight gasp and nodded eagerly. “I will figure out an aide for you, but you’ll have to manage on your own for the remainder of the day.” “I can do that,” Sarah eagerly stated. “I can at least stay and help with Choo-choo,” Kelly finally spoke up, slowly twisting in the chair towards the brothers. She first looked to Charlie, who smiled brightly, and then to Greg. “We can switch until we leave?” “Great idea,” Greg said with relief as he smiled down at Sam, who was excitedly smiling back, all of which was completely overshadowed by Charlie’s cheering.