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--- Chapter 37 --- Kelly flushed as she rushed down the stairs, the sounds of Lexi’s sobbing growing louder as they approached. Charlie frowned, his eyes falling to the ground, his heart pounding with sympathy for the pain in her cries. “Lexi!” Kelly burst out as she entered the room, rushing into the playpen. Lexi was still in the mound of pillows, hugging her unicorn plushie, and she rolled to turn her back to them, curling into a tight ball around Sparkles. The Amazon swiftly set Charlie down and stepped in front of the pillow pile, placing her hand on the Little’s shoulder. “Honey, are you okay?” Lexi shook her head and curled tighter into a ball, burying her face deeper into the stuffed unicorn. Kelly let out a pained, sympathetic groan as she grabbed the Little and pulled her into her arms, giving her a tight hug. The blonde let out another wail as she shivered. Kelly’s eyes watered as she sat down right there, placing a hand on the back of Lexi’s head and looking up at the ceiling as she tried to reason out what to do. Charlie turned away from the scene as he chewed on the pacifier, trying to cut out the sounds of crying to focus. The problem, from his perspective, was that Lexi had correctly identified that Lauren was a pushover, but had apparently abused it to the point where she had reached out for help. Not that he blamed Lexi (emotionally), but it was a rookie move because now she was in a trap. If she fixed her attitude with her Mommy, it would be attributed to her grandmother’s efforts, but if she remained defiant, things would only get worse. The ideal position was that Lexi became “good” on her own, and could push Lauren when and where it counted… he raised an eyebrow as he looked over at Kelly, who was rocking and kissing the Little’s head. He sucked on the pacifier a few times in consideration. One of the most powerful weapons he had used on his own Mommy had been jealousy. If he didn’t like someone, he leaned into liking them a ton, to the point of wanting them to hold him more than her. He would do everything to demonstrate he might love that person more than her, and that was a near guarantee that person would never appear again. There was, of course, the extreme option of even saying “I love you” to the target, but he had used that very sparingly (and thankfully, never once had to use the nuclear option of “accidentally call someone else Mommy”). He didn’t know Lauren well enough to know how she might react to this type of plan. Jennifer was selfish enough to withdraw him from school and fire babysitters when she felt threatened like that… he didn’t want to risk that, as he seemed like he was one of Lexi’s few friends at the moment. He closed his eyes, thinking back to how nervous Lauren was about this day, how much she pushed Lexi to be good… He opened his eyes as a light bulb went off in his mind. Perhaps, rather than invoking jealousy, Lauren needed to feel more loved by Lexi after a visit with Kelly. He nodded to himself as he paced slightly, scoping it out in his mind. If Lexi could shower her mother with love and good behavior after this, then act out and be cold and distant after being with her grandmother, perhaps Lauren could see that Kelly’s method was better. She would crave the well-behaved, loving Lexi, and figure out how to make that permanent. “Lexi, sweetie,” Kelly whispered after her sobs had calmed down. “Do you want to talk?” Lexi shook her head. “Okay… do you need to be alone?” Again, she shook her head. “Are you missing your Mommy?” Charlie grinned as he rolled his eyes. “No,” Lexi firmly pouted and shook her head. “Okay,” Kelly whispered as she nodded, shooting a worried look to Charlie, who looked away, pretending he hadn’t been staring. Biting her lip, she looked back down at the blonde. “What do you want or need?” “I… I wanna… st-staaaay,” Lexi wailed as she curled up again, her entire body shivering. Kelly let out a pained noise as she resumed hugging and rocking her. Charlie grimaced. Shit. That wasn’t going to do. He needed time to talk to Lexi alone again, but there was no way Kelly would leave as long as she was upset. So he conceded that for right now, he had to prioritize helping Kelly comfort Lexi. He glanced over at the stack of movies they had purchased for today and walked over, taking a few more sucks on the pacifier as he stared at the titles. He grabbed one that Kelly had picked out because she loved it as a kid, and walked over to her. Kelly blinked in surprise, looked at him, then reached out a hand for the movie… and she smiled, lifting the back of her hand to rub away the tears that had pooled in her eyes. He smiled at her; she really did care. “Lexi,” Kelly spoke softly, giving her a gentle pat on her back. “Choo-choo picked out a movie for us… and it’s actually one of my favorites. Do you think we could watch it together? Maybe… I could cuddle with you both on the pillows?” Lexi lifted her head slowly, looking over at Charlie, who smiled widely, then to the movie Kelly held up. It was The Lonely Unicorn, a hand-drawn animated movie from decades ago with the picture of an elegant white unicorn, a scrawny magician, and a looming, grumpy old man in the background with a menacing red bull at the bottom. Charlie had never heard of it before, but he was happy to enjoy something from Kelly’s childhood, and was gratified that Lexi – at least, hopefully – liked unicorns, too. The blonde reached a hand out, touching the different embossed figures on the cover, then pulled her hand back and put her thumb in her mouth, and nodded. Relieved to have some kind of progress, Kelly patiently took twenty minutes to set everything up, refusing to put Lexi down unless she asked, which she didn’t. She set up the movie, scavenged for more pillows to add to the mound, grabbed more snacks and drinks, and even adjusted the couch to function as a backrest for her against the pillow fortress. While Kelly had been out of the room, Charlie nabbed her phone, which she had left on the couch, and unlocked it, quite grateful that she trusted him with her code. He opened the text message app and quickly typed choclit dezert and sent it to Greg. He glanced over his shoulder, listening for Kelly, and after he determined she was still far enough away, he looked back down at the phone and grinned. “No, no, that place has terrible service,” Mrs. Beaumont scoffed, waving her hand in dismissal. Greg rubbed an eye as he held back a sigh, his mother’s friends planning the evening’s dinner and scouting out pricey restaurants. They were awaiting Bridget’s return from talking with the defense team, who had been offered the plea deal almost an hour ago. Lauren and Sarah shot each other nervous looks when the women landed at an extremely expensive restaurant, as someone had texted the owner and gotten them a private room. “Don’t worry,” he soothed quietly, quickly waving a hand in the air before shifting to the side to grab his phone from his pocket after feeling a vibration. “They’ll compete for paying the bill.” “We aren’t splitting it?” Lauren asked in surprise. “No,” he snorted at the idea, having never witnessed a split bill in his life, and flicked the locked screen open. “And they’ll probably be mortified if you suggest it.” He sniffed as he arched an eyebrow as he read the text “from” Kelly, and flashed a grin, responding: You got it, bud. Now give Kelly back her phone. “Everything okay?” Sarah asked, her eyes flickering down to his phone and up to him again. “Yeah. Charlie stole Kelly’s phone to remind me about dessert,” he chuckled as he set his phone face down on the table. Sarah mouthed an ‘ah’ and grinned, shaking her head as she leaned back. “No other news?” Lauren asked as she pulled out her own phone, glancing briefly at the screen and looking more concerned when she saw no texts. “No news is good news,” Sarah reassured her and opened her mouth to say more, but looked down at her purse when she heard a series of vibrations. Leaning down, she reached into it and pulled out her phone, blinking in surprise. “Oh, he’s… he’s texting me too,” she stated absently, then paused, eyes flicking down. “He is?” Greg asked, concerned; he stared at her face, trying to figure out what he was texting her from her expression. Within a few seconds of his question, she let out a giggle, nodded, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh yes,” Sarah bubbled in delight, her face flushing, and she turned her phone to show him the texts. Kelly: pleez choclit cake ice creem an fudg brownees no pie no froot shakes!!1 tel gegee no froot pleez “Oh, Charlie,” Greg half-groaned and half-laughed at the ridiculous spelling and forced mistakes. He lifted a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes as he shook his head, wondering what his Little brother was up to. Meanwhile, Sarah moved the phone for Lauren to see, and the two women burst into gushes. “Well, now we have to pick up dessert,” Lauren mused to the pair as she pointed to Sarah’s phone. “Agreed,” Sarah giggled as she typed a response. “Of course,” Greg nodded in agreement, both confirming the point and talking to himself; of course the point was to force the issue, and what better way to do that than by being cute towards the women? Still. It was never as simple as that with him. “You know,” Sarah sighed, putting a hand on her chest after she sent her text. “That’s a bit of a relief, really. I thought he didn’t like me.” “Charlie?” Lauren scoffed, but Greg raised an eyebrow in surprise. “No way. He loves everyone.” “I know!” Sarah exclaimed in disbelief, then leaned back as her eyes fell to her phone, frowning. “But I think I came on too strong the day after the incident. He seemed very confused and upset, and I - I just acted like nothing was wrong, and I think that bothered him.” Greg sniffed as he stared down in thought, wondering what had tipped Sarah off that he might not like her. Besides the day LPS came, which he thought Charlie had warmed up to her by the end, he had spent most of his time with Kelly. As he began to wonder if Sarah was a bit more perceptive than she was getting credit for, he suddenly realized the conversation had gone silent, and he looked up, seeing that both Lauren and Sarah were staring at him expectantly. He blushed slightly as Lauren gave him a stern look and angled her head towards Sarah, who looked worried. “Oh, uh… He’s fine with you,” Greg assured her as he gave her an awkward smile, then chuckled as he shrugged. “If he didn’t like you, you would know.” Abner chuckled from his seat, his eyes still down in his book, but when the two women looked at him, his eyes flashed up briefly as he nodded. “He’s right. Charlie isn’t subtle about who he doesn’t like,” the lawyer mused. “Oooh, there’s a story there,” Lauren grinned as she placed her chin in her palm and leaned forward. “Many,” Abner chuckled, lifting his head as he pulled the reading glasses from the end of his nose. “Gerald always trusted the kid’s instincts with people. If his Little boy didn’t like someone, he took that seriously, and it usually was the right call.” “Really?” Sarah asked before Greg could, though it was on the tip of his tongue as well. She stiffened her back and leaned forward, seeming both curious and concerned by this news; Greg grinned, realizing that concern was for herself, and wondered just how hard Charlie would pivot if he realized how much power he had over her now. “Like who?” “Mmm, there was a charity that was courting him and Jennifer for a donation,” Abner began as he angled his head up, briefly closing his eyes to recall the details. “They were positioning themselves as assisting struggling families with adopted Littles in Bornu. But after two meetings, Charlie made no bones about disliking at least two of the three founders, and so Gerald withdrew from the consideration. A few months later, it was all over the news that they had taken in millions in donations and absconded with it all.” “I remember that,” Mrs. Sterling chuckled, and the three shifted in surprise, only now realizing the entire room had begun listening in on the conversation. “Gerald swore up and down his boy saved their ass from being on that list.” “Oh, yes, he rubbed it in our face all the time,” Mrs. Cartwright sighed with a roll of her eyes. “We lost a few million in that scandal.” Lauren flushed a bit at the casualness of that comment, her eyes dropping down to the table. “Oh, and darling, he didn’t like me at first either,” Mrs. Beaumont comforted Sarah, and a few of the women chuckled. “Just be yourself and stick around, he’ll find reasons to like you.” Greg dipped his head as he grinned, rubbing under his nose, knowing Charlie had disliked the Beaumonts because their wealth came from Little schools, but he had also renewed his irritation with them when Tyler, their son, had become Greg’s bully. Sarah gave an awkward chuckle and nod in response to Mrs. Beaumont, tossing out a polite thank you, but when she made eye contact with Greg, her eyes widened ever so slightly in an expression that said ‘no kidding’, and he held back a laugh; apparently, she had made that connection too. Entering the room shortly after was the prospector, Bridget, and Saki, both with slight smirks on their faces that made Greg nervous. Bridget held up the signed paper and announced, “They accepted.” “Excellent,” Abner replied with a satisfied grin as he closed his book, reaching out and patting Greg’s shoulder, who smiled in relief. Despite their initial objections, everyone seemed pleased to have the guilty plea. Greg sighed in relief, hanging his head as he nodded and flashed smiles at those who congratulated him. Saki already had the statement written for him, which was delightfully short: two sentences, and he would be done. Everything else was handled by Bridget and Abner, much to Greg’s relief. Kelly spent the entire movie on the pillow and blanket mound, with Lexi curled up in her lap, and Charlie curled under the crook of her arm. She floated between smiling at her childhood favorite movie and checking on Lexi, who had significantly relaxed within the first half-hour of the movie. Charlie had initially spent the setup of the movie still involved in his plan, trying to figure out how to get Kelly to grant them alone time, and what exactly he would say to Lexi. But much to his surprise, he became just as invested in the movie as the other two. It was both a light-hearted children’s movie and dealt with dark topics enough to be noticeable, but not enough to make it inappropriate. Plus, the characters had depth, flaws, and endearing personalities. At the climax, the three of them had tensed up together as the unicorn was forced to fight the red bull. Lexi burst into a cheer at the end, which Charlie quickly joined, and Kelly let out a pleased giggle. “That was really good!” Lexi bubbled up at Kelly, who pulled her in for a hug. “Ooh, I’m so glad you liked it,” she replied warmly, leaning her cheek against Little’s head. “Okay, are you two hungry? We’re closing in on dinnertime.” “Yeah,” Charlie nodded immediately, and Lexi agreed. “Okie dokie! Lexi, let’s get you changed before I start,” Kelly quietly narrated, planting a kiss on the top of Charlie’s head before standing and taking Lexi with her out of the room. He craned his neck to watch her leave, then looked back to the couch where Kelly’s phone still sat. He had already done what he set out to accomplish, but he was curious; making his way over, he opened it to check and grinned at Sarah’s response: I’m on it! ❤️ No froot! ‘Good for her,’ he thought and set the phone down without replying, mildly impressed that she was willing to play along without the mandatory “give back the phone”. Though he recognized she would know that Kelly would see her response eventually… Still, she was clearly trying to fit in and impress, which was worth noting (and monitoring). He ran his tongue over his front teeth as he scanned the room, needing to force himself out of that topic and back to the matter at hand… he crossed his arms and tapped his foot in thought. The chocolate trap was set; now he needed another layer to really hammer the point home. Or… in this case, paddle the point home. He grinned at his own joke, making haste over to the toy bin and leaning in, shoving things aside until he got to the bottom, where an old electronic baseball sat unused. Pulling it out victoriously, he flashed a smile at the memories and then tossed it onto the ground, peering back in to see if anything else would help sell it. “Weeee’re back!” Kelly sang as she entered, giving Lexi a slight bounce, who was smiling as she lazily kicked her legs. “Kellyyy,” Charlie whined as he turned to face her. “Ball pit, peas?” “Ball pit?” she echoed curiously as she set Lexi down. “The one in your room?” “Yeah,” he nodded several times. “Oh, um,” she hesitated, her eyes drifting up in thought before she glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen. “Can it wait until after dinner?” “No,” he pouted quickly. “But Choo-choo, it’s pretty big,” Kelly winced as she assessed the size of their play area. “I’m not even sure it will fit.” “Look, peas?” he asked politely, giving her his best begging eyes. He just needed a few minutes… Her expression shifted to a loving look, and she nodded. “Okay, I’ll go measure it,” she acquiesced softly. She spent a minute or so rummaging in the junk drawer for a tape measure, then walked out of the room. Since she didn’t make a big scene of leaving, he knew that meant he had precious little time. “Okay, Lexi, here’s the plan,” he stated as he grabbed the bat and dragged it over to her. She blinked in surprise, looking over her shoulder to verify Kelly was gone, then back to him. “Sorry about –” “Don’t be, I get it,” he interrupted quickly, offering a brief but supportive smile. “I need you to be your best, cutest, loving self with your Mommy when she gets back. Push every loving button you’ve got –” he stopped as he saw her scoff, putting a hand up. “Trust me. They’re going to be bringing chocolate, freak out. Make sure to call it ‘Grammy chocolate’ or something like that. But you gotta pace it just right. Your Mommy has to see you at your best, so your freak out hurts more.” He stepped to the side as he paused, listening for Kelly, and nodded. “Secondly, we’re going to play house. You’re going to be your Grammy, and I’m the baby,” he instructed as he pointed to the bat. “That’s the paddle.” “I -” Lexi looked horrified at the bat, then to him. “I can’t hit you!” “Sure you can,” he laughed as he slapped his hand on his crinkling rear. “I’ve got padding!” “No, that’s - it’s -” she stumbled, and Charlie again looked down the hall, grimacing. “Yeah, yeah, Kelly’ll be upset,” he hastily dismissed, waving a hand in the air. “She doesn’t hit, and you won’t be punished, I promise. Just don’t let it be the first thing you do. And when she steps in, make sure to clearly tell her we’re playing house and you’re playing Grammy. Lastly –” he stressed as his hand flew out, pressing his fingers against her lips as he gave her a stern look; they didn’t have time to argue. “I’m going to convince my brother to offer for you to visit more. You need to be at your worst after visits with Grammy, at your best after here, with your Mommy. She needs to see a hard difference. You love her more after visits here, less after Grammy. Got it?” Lexi blinked a few times first, but then nodded once slowly, then again faster as the plan was settling in her mind. Charlie nodded in return, slowly moving his hand away from her mouth. “Any questions?” he asked in a whisper, his eyes darting to the hall as he heard Kelly’s steps on the upper floor. Lexi shook her head as she grabbed at the hem of her dress and swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes glistening. “Anytime,” he smiled. Dinner had been both boisterous and uneventful, at least in Greg’s eyes. He knew that was not the same experience for Sarah and Lauren, who were unaccustomed to the lavish lifestyle that his mother’s friends engaged with so casually, and that he grew up in. They had experienced a fast and personalized entrance in a five-star restaurant, meeting the chef and the owner, and were given a personalized dining experience. No menus were ever presented, and whatever they asked for in terms of drinks was delivered without fanfare or overt presentation. Despite this not being his preferred kind of outing, he was glad they enjoyed themselves, though he did worry about the precedent this may be setting. Worse, he felt compelled to pay the bill as a show of gratitude to everyone’s efforts and the company for the day, which he worried may set the bar high with Sarah for future dates. He let out an audible sigh of relief as their car turned onto his home’s driveway, and he began to loosen his tie. “It’s been quite the day,” Sarah mused quietly as she leaned against him. “I’m shocked we didn’t receive a single call,” Lauren commented as she peered out the window and assessed the state of the house as if expecting it to be on fire. “Charlie’s a good host,” Greg grinned and was grateful the two women laughed, despite the honesty in his sentiment. “Well, hopefully, the good Little host is satisfied with our choices,” Sarah commented as her foot pointed to the large bag of desserts they had purchased on their way back. Greg nodded in agreement, but made haste to open his door the second the car stopped, as it was the first he had been allowed to all day. Security had managed every little bit of that to an annoying degree, and he was ready for life to return to normal. The caravan had shrunk over the hours as cars went their separate ways to take people directly home, and the last was their car with an escort. Lauren and Sarah got out of the car, gathering the desserts as he bid the security personnel farewell after confirming everything was taken care of. Halfway to the front door, Kelly opened it to greet them, but couldn’t muster any words over the eager shouting of Lexi, who was bouncing up and down and only held back by holding Kelly’s hand. “MOMMYYYY!!” she bellowed in excitement and jumped again, trying to throw her hands forward, but Kelly held firm while the cars were still driving away. Lauren let out an audible gasp, shocked by her daughter’s enthusiasm but quickly basked in it. “Lexi, baby! Look at you!” she beamed in delight, hurrying forward and scooping the girl up in her arms. She immediately planted several kisses on the girl’s face, cooing and purring at how much she missed her. “Hi Geggie!!” Charlie waved from Kelly’s arms, far less boisterous but no less happy, and he quickly looked to Sarah. “Hi, Miss Sarah!” “Heya, bud!” Greg greeted enthusiastically, feeling a wave of energy ignite within him. Sarah, much like Lauren, gasped in delight at the greeting, and she waved back, holding up the bag of treats. Charlie immediately clapped and began bouncing. “Sorry, sorry, we’re causing a road block!” Kelly apologized as she stepped into the house, waving the crew in. Lexi barely let herself breathe as she recounted the day, making sure to talk at length about the unicorn movie she wanted to watch again. Greg was the last in, shutting the door behind him, and Kelly stepped up, dropping her voice. “Hey, I, uh… I may need your help… um, telling Lauren something.” “Oh?” Greg puzzled as he raised an eyebrow, but Sarah spun around with a curious expression. Charlie turned his head to face away, needing a moment to collect himself as he nearly grinned at Sarah’s nosy inclination. Kelly bit her lip and nodded, but she motioned forward, knowing it was too obvious to have them linger in the entryway like this. “It’s not - well - nothing urgent,” she flustered as she waved a hand in the air and brisked past them, following Lauren into the main room. Greg and Sarah frowned at each other and followed her in. “Yeah, that one!” Lexi nodded, pointing to the box art of the movie as Lauren picked it up and smiled, giving her another kiss. “Well, let’s hear your report first,” Lauren teased as she turned to face Kelly. “How was she?” “Oh, just wonderful!” Kelly bubbled immediately, reaching a hand out to grab Lexi’s foot and shaking it. “Weren’t you?” “Yeah,” Lexi giggled shyly, curling in closer to her mother and laying her head on her shoulder. “Truly?” Lauren pressed in a more serious tone, though her smile was still lingering, and her face was still a little flushed from the warm greeting. Sarah gently took the other bag from Lauren, giving a smile, but it was thinner than normal, her mind lingering on whatever Kelly didn’t say. Sarah walked the bags to the kitchen island and set them on it, glancing over her shoulder back at the group while Greg took Charlie, who reached out for him. “Truly,” Kelly confirmed once Charlie was out of her arms and placed her hand on her heart. “She was a great sport about all of Choo-choo’s games, let him pick almost every movie they watched today, and was just a gem about everything.” “Lexiii, darling!” Lauren praised as she bounced the blonde and planted a kiss on her head. Lexi giggled, her face blushing, and she turned her head inward to hide it. “I’m so proud of you!” “Anything specific to share?” Greg coaxed cautiously, trying not to sound obvious, but failing. Sarah, despite her own curiosity, raised a hand to her face to hide it as she nearly laughed at his overt push. “Oh, uuhhh,” Kelly stumbled, her shoulder rising anxiously. “Well, it’s - um, it may be nothing —“ “What?” Lauren asked, concern easily slipping into her tone. Kelly’s eyes widened as all eyes turned to her, and she took a nervous step back, wringing her hands together. “Well, they were playing house…” Charlie nearly burst out laughing at Sarah’s face. Kelly chose the worst possible time to pause in her explanation, and Sarah clearly took the worst possible assumption from them playing house, and rather than let that linger, he thumbed at his chest. “I was baby!” he declared excitedly, and Lexi sat up, taking the cue and pointing to herself. “Yeah! And I was Grammy!” she added, much to Sarah’s relief. Greg frowned slightly in confusion, clearly not seeing the issue, and Lauren shot her daughter a bemused look. “Grammy?” she echoed in disbelief, and Lexi nodded. “Well, so,” Kelly gulped, pulling at her fingers nervously. “That was fine, for a little bit, but uh, eventually, Grammy had to… ‘discipline’ baby…” Another Kelly pause, but this time, no one reacted too strongly, as everyone waited to find out what that meant. Lexi continued following Charlie’s lead, acting relaxed and nonchalant, but Lauren had become a little stiff while Sarah and Greg both were trying to read Kelly’s mind. “And?” Sarah finally asked as she stepped forward, placing her hands on her hips. “And, uh, well… she pretended to… hit Charlie with a, uh… a paddle,” Kelly blustered through her, feeling the mouth and throat dry with each word that got closer to the end. She motioned her hand half-heartedly over towards the bat. Charlie burst out into a giggle as he made a spanking motion in the air. “Bad baby!” he giggled, and Lexi joined. Sarah shot an incredulous look at Lauren while Greg remained still and looked neutral, wondering if there was any truth to this (as he was rather suspicious that Charlie had orchestrated this). “Lexi,” Lauren began in a cautious tone, reaching her hand out to take her daughter’s. “Why would you do that, honey?” “Cause I’m Grammy!” she bubbled in response, and Charlie beamed proudly at her. “Lauren, does your mother hit her?” Sarah asked in exactly the judgmental tone Charlie had been hoping for on Lexi’s behalf, though admittedly, he was mildly disappointed she wasn’t revealing herself as a secret wicked witch. “Yeah!” Lexi nodded in response as she looked to Sarah, and Charlie blew air out of his nose. “Grammy gets mad, says ‘bad baby,’ and bam-bam!” “I -“ Lauren began to defend, and looked in horror at Lexi. “Lexi, you don’t hit other people.” “But -“ Lexi started. “That’s not the issue here, Lauren,” Sarah snapped. “She’s learned that’s okay by example.” “I know,” Lauren immediately replied in an apologetic tone, putting a hand up to Sarah. “I know – I’m sorry, I’m not defending my mother. I - I didn’t know.” Lexi opened her mouth to object, but when she caught Charlie’s eye, she thought better of it. His mouth twitched in a subtle smile of approval; the goal here wasn’t to get Lauren in trouble, per se, but to vilify Grammy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t -“ Kelly gulped. “You’re fine, Kelly,” Sarah cut her off, waving a hand at her. Greg tensed up slightly at her sudden authoritative presence. “You did the right thing.” “Am I in trouble?” Lexi whined as she looked to her mouth, putting a finger on her lower lip. Charlie badly wished he could have given her a thumbs-up. “No,” Lauren quickly responded, sounding curt at first as she looked both defensive and embarrassed at Sarah, but broke eye contact to look at her daughter as she forced a smile and lifted her hand to rub her cheek. “No, of course not, sweet-pea.” “Dessert?” Charlie asked as he leaned against his brother and smiled up at him, figuring this was as good a time as any to trigger the second trap. “Yeah, let’s, uh, have some dessert,” Greg piped up in response, speaking more to Sarah and Lauren than replying to Charlie. Sarah nodded, but her eyes lingered on Lauren, only looking away when Greg walked between them. “We got nearly everything on your list.” “Fruit?” Charlie asked curiously. “You said no fruit!” Sarah gasped as she spun around to face him, sharply pulled out of her sour mood, and stepped up to the kitchen island, giving him a panicked look. “Yeah!” Charlie giggled and nodded; Greg shook his head, though admittedly proud of him for not stretching that out. Sarah sighed in relief, placing a hand on her chest. “Ooh, cuppie cakes,” he gushed at the tray of miniature cupcakes, though they were a mix of vanilla and chocolate options, and he couldn’t risk Lexi not being offered chocolate. He pointed to the tray of brownies. “That!” “We should really go,” Lauren stated awkwardly, clearing her throat as she scanned the room for her diaper bag. “But Mommy, Charlie promised desserts,” Lexi whined as she pointed towards the group. ”And we can’t have you leaving on a sour note, Lauren,” Greg stated, smirking slightly as he avoided looking at Sarah’s expression despite seeing it in the corner of his eye. “Brownie?” “Sure,” Lauren said with a forced smile. “I’m sorry, I should have told you in private,” Kelly whispered to Lauren once she approached. “No, it’s…” Lauren started, but she took in a deep breath as she looked up at the ceiling. “I needed to know. Thank you.” Charlie grabbed his brownie quickly and shoved about half of it in his mouth, needing it to be as full as possible to avoid whatever reaction he was about to have. Sarah giggled at him and wiped some crumbs off his nose, then set two brownies on a paper plate and walked them over to Lauren. Greg looked down at Charlie as he raised an eyebrow, clearly communicating his suspicion, and the Little brother just smiled widely, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk and his teeth dotted with brownie bits. “No!” Lexi cried out as she recoiled from the plate. “No more!” “Lexi?” asked multiple voices at once, and Greg spun around to face the scene as, much to Charlie’s surprise, Lexi burst into real tears. “NO MORE GRAMMY CHOCOLATE!!!”

In Chapter 156, Sally steps into a room that no longer feels like her parents’ world but her own. What begins as a simple introduction to the team behind the Weiss family’s empire quickly becomes something more intimate: a moment of clarity about where she stands and who stands with her. As legal counsel, security, concierge, and public relations reveal the quiet machinery that supports her life, Sally listens, questions, and surprises them in return. Then comes unexpected family news that could have shifted her place in the hierarchy—but instead secures it. By the end of the afternoon, Sally isn’t just the heiress in name. She’s already practicing leadership, extending invitations, setting tone, and discovering that influence isn’t inherited in a single moment. It’s grown into, choice by choice.   Chapter 156 – Meet the Team Sally’s delay had begun innocently enough. At first, it was just indecision. She stood in front of the open wardrobe in her underwear, one foot hooked lazily on the edge of the rug, weighing options that all felt suddenly wrong. Too stiff. Too young. Too try-hard. Too beachy. Too much like she was pretending to be someone else. “Okay,” she murmured to herself, pulling out dark blue jeans and a white, clean-lined T-shirt. Stylish, but simple. Serious, but not theatrical. “This works.” She laid them on the bed. Then she paused. She sniffed her arm. “…ugh.” The siesta, the travel, the Bahamas air that somehow felt heavier and softer at the same time—it all caught up with her at once. She tugged at the hem of her shirt, grimacing. Maybe a quick shower. Just to feel fresh. No hair. Two minutes. In and out. She stepped into the bathroom with that exact lie forming fully in her mind. Warm water hit her shoulders, and she closed her eyes, exhaling as tension slid off her spine. Two minutes turned into four. And then she glanced up at the mirror, steam-fogged, hair already damp from the humidity. “Well,” she reasoned aloud, “this is ridiculous now.” She reached for the shampoo. By the time she wrapped herself in a towel, hair dripping and dignity questionable, the clock on the vanity felt accusatory. She plugged in the hair dryer anyway. Warm air roared to life, filling the room as she bent her head, fingers combing through her hair with growing urgency. This was not how a composed, future-stakeholder, possibly-Porsche-owning person behaved. A knock came at the door. “Sally?” her mother’s voice called—gentle, but already edged with timing. Sally didn’t answer immediately. The hair dryer drowned everything out. The door opened anyway. Bridget stepped in and took in the scene in one practiced glance: towel wrapped around Sally’s chest, damp footprints on the tile, clothes laid out neatly but untouched on the bed, and Sally herself standing there mid-dry, eyes wide like a startled deer. Bridget pressed her lips together and put her hands on her hips. “They’re on their way,” she said calmly. Sally clicked the dryer off and set it down a little too carefully. “I’ll be ready,” she said quickly. Her mother arched an eyebrow. “You said that ten minutes ago.” “I meant it then too,” Sally insisted. “I just… escalated.” Bridget sighed, but there was affection in it. “You didn’t need to wash your hair.” “I know,” Sally said, tightening the towel. “But now that I did, I don’t regret it. I feel… more human.” Bridget crossed the room and picked up the white T-shirt, holding it up. “This is good,” she said. “Clean. Confident. Not shouting.” “That was the goal,” Sally nodded. “I don’t want to look like I’m auditioning.” “You’re not,” Bridget said gently. “You’re showing up.” She set the shirt back down and reached out, tucking a damp strand of hair behind Sally’s ear with the ease of a mother who had done this a thousand times—before recitals, before school presentations, before doctor appointments that mattered. “You don’t have to be perfect,” Bridget added quietly. “You just have to be present.” Sally swallowed and nodded. “Okay.” Bridget smiled. “Ten minutes.” “I can do ten,” Sally said, already reaching for her jeans. As her mother turned to leave, she paused at the door. “And Sally?” “Yeah?” “You’re allowed to take this seriously,” Bridget said. “But you’re also allowed to be fifteen.” Sally smiled, a little crooked, towel still clutched in one hand, future waiting politely outside the room. “Working on that balance,” she said. Bridget nodded once and closed the door behind her. Sally took a breath, dropped the towel, and got dressed—heart steadying, hair finally cooperating, ready or not. -- By the time Sally finished getting ready, the team had been waiting precisely five minutes. Which, she would later decide, was the most acceptable kind of late. It meant no one had settled. No one had claimed a seat with territorial confidence. Cups were still half-filled, jackets still on arms instead of backs of chairs. Conversations were hovering, not rooted. An entrance, without theatrics. Sally stepped into the living room and felt it immediately—the subtle shift, like air redistributing itself around a new center of gravity. The room had been chosen deliberately. The living room, not the dining table, not the study. White sofas, open glass toward the water, sunlight slanting in at an angle that softened everything. It said: this matters, but we are not pretending this is a courtroom. Most of the group was standing. When Sally entered, the rest rose. Not abruptly. Not stiffly. But deliberately. Adrian moved at once, stepping in beside her and placing a light, grounding hand on her shoulder. “Everybody,” he said easily, “this is Sally.” Nothing else was said. No titles. No qualifiers. No explanation of why a fifteen-year-old girl had just become the reason the room stood up straighter. Sally nodded, aware of her posture, aware of her breath. She met familiar eyes first—Theresa, calm and observant; Jana, composed, already back in work-mode; Priya, who smiled warmly, as if to say we’ve done this part before. Then her gaze moved, curious now, to the three faces she didn’t know. Adrian guided her a step forward, just enough. “Sally,” he said, “you haven’t met Franz Gonzalo.” The man stepped forward with an easy smile and extended his hand. Dark complexion, open face, the kind of warmth that came from competence rather than charm. “Our in-house legal expert,” Adrian added. “Pleased to meet you,” Sally said, shaking his hand firmly, just as she’d been taught. “The pleasure is mine,” Franz replied, genuinely. “I’ve heard your name more times than I can count. It’s good to finally put a face to it.” She smiled, a little shy, a little amused. Adrian continued, turning slightly. “Adam Pender.” This one didn’t smile. Shaved head, sharp eyes, posture like someone who noticed exits before furniture. He shook Sally’s hand with a grip that was careful, calibrated—strong without testing her. “IT and security,” Adrian said. Adam nodded once. “Good to meet you, Sally.” Sally had the distinct sensation of being evaluated from the inside out—not judged, but measured. She didn’t flinch. “Good to meet you too,” she replied. Adrian gestured to the last person. “And this is Joseline Meyer. Concierge support.” Joseline stepped forward quickly, enthusiasm barely restrained, and squeezed Sally’s hand with both of hers. “I am very happy to meet you, Miss Weiss,” she said, Swiss accent unmistakable, eyes bright. “Please, just Sally,” Sally said, smiling despite herself. Joseline beamed as if she’d been given a gift. “Of course. Sally.” They all settled then—some onto sofas, others into chairs pulled closer. Adrian and Bridget took the central sofa, and Sally sat between them, aware of the symmetry, the quiet message it sent. She folded her hands loosely in her lap, feet planted, shoulders relaxed. For a brief moment, no one spoke. Then Adrian leaned back slightly and glanced at his daughter. “All right,” he said. “This is informal by design. We’re here to align, not to overwhelm.” Sally felt her mother’s presence beside her, steady and calm. Adrian continued, “Sally has been gradually introduced to the Foundation’s work. What we’re discussing today is not responsibility—but visibility. Understanding. Context.” A few nods around the room. Sally cleared her throat, surprising herself by speaking before being invited. “I know I’m young,” she said simply. “I’m not here to make decisions. I just want to understand what’s happening—and where I fit.” There it was. Not rehearsed. Not performative. Just honest. Franz smiled faintly. Adam’s gaze softened by a fraction. Joseline looked as if she might applaud and thought better of it. Priya leaned forward slightly. “That’s exactly what this meeting is for.” Theresa, from her seat, watched Sally with quiet approval. Bridget rested her hand lightly on Sally’s knee. And Sally, sitting there with the ocean behind her and a room full of people who took her seriously, realized something new and steady forming inside her: This wasn’t a test. It was an invitation. -- Adrian let the brief silence settle, the way he always did when he wanted people to reset their attention. “Before we go any further,” he said, voice calm and unhurried, “I’d like everyone to properly introduce themselves. Not titles only. Context matters here.” His hand remained light on the back of the sofa, close enough to Sally to be reassuring without being possessive. He turned his head slightly, scanning the room—not counting people, but reading them. “This isn’t about hierarchy,” Adrian continued. “It’s about understanding who does what, why they do it, and how they think. Sally deserves that.” Sally felt a small, unexpected swell of pride at the word deserves. She kept her gaze steady, attentive, as if this were a classroom she had chosen. Adrian’s eyes came to rest on Franz. Not abruptly. Not pointedly. Just… intentionally. “Franz,” Adrian said, with a nod. “Why don’t you start.” Franz straightened almost imperceptibly. He returned the nod, folded his hands once, and drew a breath—ready to speak. -- Franz Gonzalo cleared his throat before he spoke. He did not rush. He adjusted his jacket, straightened slightly, and addressed the room the way one addresses a table that includes board members, not a family on holiday. “My name is Franz Gonzalo,” he said. “I serve as legal counsel for the Weiss family, both in business and in private affairs.” He paused, as if organizing documents that only he could see. “I was educated in Frankfurt, where I studied law with a focus on corporate governance and cross-border transactions. After that, I completed postgraduate work in Zurich, concentrating on private wealth structures, trusts, and family offices. I later practiced in London, where I worked primarily with international firms handling multinational holdings, regulatory compliance, and litigation risk.” He spoke evenly, carefully. Each city landed like a credential. “For the Weiss family,” he continued, “my role is twofold. First, I provide direct legal counsel on strategic matters involving the family’s assets, foundations, and long-term structures. Second, I oversee and coordinate the external law firms that handle day-to-day legal work on your behalf. I ensure consistency, discretion, and alignment across jurisdictions.” He inclined his head slightly toward Adrian as he said this, then returned his attention to Sally. “My responsibility is not to replace those firms, but to supervise them. To anticipate problems before they materialize. To make sure that legal matters never become personal matters.” When he finished, he folded his hands loosely and waited. Sally had listened without interrupting, her expression attentive rather than impressed. She nodded once. “You’ve worked in three countries,” she said. “Do you still consider one of them home?” The question caught him just off-script. Franz hesitated, then allowed himself a small smile. “I suppose that depends on how one defines home,” he said. “Professionally, Switzerland. Personally…” He paused, then added, “my parents are from Spain. Jerez de la Frontera.” Sally’s eyes lit up immediately. “Jerez,” she said. “That’s Andalusia.” She glanced at her father, but didn’t say anything. She recognized that name. “Yes,” Franz said, a little surprised by her enthusiasm. “My father worked many years in Switzerland. We moved there when I was a teenager.” “That explains the accent,” Sally said lightly. “And the name?” Franz laughed quietly, the formality finally cracking. “My actual name is Francisco,” he admitted. “Franz was… practical. It traveled better.” Sally smiled, openly now. “I like Francisco,” she said. “But Franz suits you too.” Franz inclined his head again, this time less like a lawyer acknowledging a client and more like a man grateful to be seen. -- Joseline Meyer leaned forward slightly before she spoke, hands folded, posture impeccable. She smiled first at Bridget, then at Sally, as if she had been waiting for this introduction longer than she would ever admit. “My name is Joseline Meyer,” she said. “I work in concierge support and guest experience for the Weiss family.” She paused, clearly choosing her words with care. “I am Swiss,” she continued, “and I studied tourism management in Lucerne. My early work was in luxury hospitality—hotels, private resorts, and travel coordination for high-profile families. Later, I completed a master’s degree in VIP marketing, with a focus on discretion, personalization, and crisis avoidance.” Her voice was warm, but disciplined. Enthusiastic, but not effusive. “For the Weiss family,” she said, “my role is to make life… seamless. Travel, residences, events, transitions between countries. My work is often invisible by design. When everything feels easy, it means I have done my job correctly.” She glanced briefly at Adrian, then returned to Sally. Her smile softened. “I have known of you for a long time,” she said carefully. “Not personally, of course. But your routines, your preferences, the way you like things to feel rather than how they look. I have been very much looking forward to meeting you.” She caught herself then, reins tightening just enough. “I mean that professionally,” she added quickly, though her eyes betrayed her delight. Sally smiled back, amused. “I don’t mind if it’s personal too,” she said. Joseline laughed, a light, sunny sound that brightened the room. “That is very kind of you,” she said. “I promise I will remain professional.” But the affection was already there, unmistakable. Joseline sat back, still smiling, clearly pleased—not just to have met Sally, but to have found that the girl matched the care that had been taken around her for so long. -- Adam Pender did not adjust his posture when it was his turn. He did not clear his throat. He did not smile. “My name is Adam Pender,” he said. “I handle IT and security.” That was it, at first. He sat with his hands relaxed, voice even, eyes steady. Not hard. Not soft. Appraising in a way that felt practiced rather than personal. “I was a Marine,” he added. “After that, I worked in private security.” A pause followed. Not an omission—an allowance. But Sally’s expectant look made it impossible to remain passive. “I was at Blackwater.” The words were delivered dryly, without emphasis, without defense. They landed heavily anyway. Sally felt it in her chest, a brief cold awareness, like air changing pressure. She did not look away. Adam watched her reaction closely. Not to provoke it. To read it. Sally gave a small nod. Not approval. Not fear. Recognition. “Then you understand responsibility,” she said simply. “And restraint.” It was not a question. It was an observation. Adam inclined his head once. Slow. Deliberate. The corner of his mouth moved—not quite a smile, but something adjacent to respect. “Yes,” he said. Nothing more needed to be said. Theresa, watching from her place beside Sally, noticed the exchange and relaxed almost imperceptibly. This was not a negotiation. This was acknowledgment between people who understood weight, even if they had carried it differently. Adam’s gaze lingered on Sally for a second longer, no longer measuring surface. He had his answer. --  Priya Nair did not wait for the silence to stretch. She stepped into it with practiced ease, a smile already in place, as if she had been gently holding the moment back until it was safe to release. “I think this is where I come in,” she said lightly. She turned to Sally first, her expression brightening with genuine familiarity. “We’ve met properly before, but for everyone else—Priya Nair. Public relations.” Her voice carried warmth, but also momentum. She had the gift of making rooms breathe again. “I trained in London,” she continued, “which is where my parents still live. I studied communications and media strategy there, with a focus on crisis management and reputation protection. Very glamorous on paper. Less glamorous at three in the morning.” A few quiet smiles appeared around the room. “After that, I worked in Zurich for several years, mostly with international clients who needed someone who could translate not just languages, but cultures. That’s where I learned that silence is sometimes the best statement, and timing is everything.” She glanced at Adrian, amused. “And then, a few months ago, Mr. Weiss recruited me, which I still consider slightly surreal.” Sally laughed softly. “It wasn’t subtle,” Priya added. “But it was convincing.” She turned back to Sally, her tone affectionate without losing professionalism. “I already know you a bit,” she said, “and I’m very glad to finally be in the same room without a schedule attached.” The tension had dissolved completely now. Priya’s energy lingered in the air—sunny, quick, and unmistakably Indian in its warmth. She settled back into her chair, satisfied, having done exactly what she was meant to do. The meeting moved on. -- Adrian let the moment stretch just long enough for the room to notice. Until then, the gathering had settled into an easy, professional rhythm—bodies relaxed but minds attentive, cups resting on low tables, the hum of the villa and the sea beyond acting as a quiet backdrop. But when Adrian folded his hands and said, calmly, “Before we go any further, there’s one announcement to make,” the air shifted. “Until now, it’s been strictly need-to-know,” he continued. “So some of you already have the full picture. Others don’t.” That did it. Joseline straightened at once. Priya’s eyebrows lifted, her smile pausing mid-curve. Franz leaned back, fingers steepled, already sorting implications. Even Adam—who rarely betrayed anything—adjusted his posture, attention sharpening like a lens pulled into focus. Adrian glanced sideways, then smiled. “Since this affects Bridget most of all,” he said, turning toward her, “I’ll let her tell you.” Sally felt it before she thought it. Her hand moved instinctively, fingers sliding into her mother’s. Bridget squeezed back—once, steady, grounding—then released and took a breath. “Well,” Bridget said, her voice warm, matter-of-fact, unmistakably hers, “the simple version is… I’m pregnant.” For half a second, there was silence. Then Joseline made a small, entirely unprofessional sound and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh!” she breathed, eyes shining. Priya mirrored her reaction a beat later, gasping softly, already smiling so hard it hurt. “That’s—oh, that’s wonderful.” Franz nodded immediately, composed but genuine. Adam inclined his head once, slow and deliberate, his expression unreadable but respectful. Inwardly, both men were already adjusting timelines, security considerations, structures—but neither let that calculation eclipse the moment. One by one, congratulations followed. Warm. Sincere. Spoken aloud and carried in glances. Theresa and Jana exchanged a quiet look from the side—this was not news to them—but even so, Jana’s mouth twitched into a small, pleased smile. Theresa’s eyes softened. “The baby’s due in July,” Bridget added, emboldened now, her hand resting lightly at her side. “It’s a boy.” There it was. The detail that tipped the room fully into joy. Adrian leaned forward, unable to contain himself. “The pregnancy is healthy,” he said. “We’ve done all the tests. Everything looks excellent. This wasn’t planned—but we couldn’t be happier.” He grinned openly now, the kind of smile that refused to be managed. Throughout it all, Sally sat glowing. She hadn’t said a word. She didn’t need to. Her smile was wide and quiet, something luminous and private. She dabbed lightly at the corner of one eye when she felt the sting there, careful not to draw attention, but the emotion was unmistakable. Pride. Love. Wonder. A sense of something opening forward. A brother. A future rearranging itself. She squeezed her mother’s hand again under the table, just once this time. Bridget glanced at her, and the look they shared needed no translation at all. The announcement had been made. And the room—professionals though they all were—had shifted, just slightly, to make space for what came next. -- Adrian let the warmth settle for a beat longer—just enough for the congratulations to finish echoing—before he gently reclaimed the floor. It was a familiar shift, the quiet pivot from family moment to stewardship. “All right,” he said, clasping his hands once. “First considerations.” A few smiles lingered, but everyone leaned in. “Public relations,” Adrian continued. “Priya—we’d like to issue a press statement announcing the new arrival. Bridget is beginning to show, and we have no intention of pretending we live in a castle with the drawbridge up.” Bridget laughed softly and rested a hand over her stomach. “I’d appreciate that. I can go back to wearing normal clothes for a bit—before nature overrules me again.” That drew a ripple of gentle amusement around the room. Priya was already halfway into work mode, tablet angled toward her, eyes bright with momentum. “I can have a draft ready by the end of the day,” she said smoothly. “Tone: warm, personal, understated. No spectacle. One question—would you like to include a photo with the release?” She looked from Adrian to Bridget, professional but attentive. Adrian shrugged lightly. “I’m fine either way.” Bridget turned instinctively toward Sally. “What do you think?” she asked, her voice inviting rather than leading. Sally blinked, momentarily surprised to be consulted—then smiled, the answer already there. “The one we took after New Year’s,” she said softly. “In the yard.” Bridget’s face lit up at once. “Perfect,” she said, nodding. “That one felt… real.” Priya smiled, already picturing it. “That’s a lovely image,” she said. “Natural light, relaxed, family-oriented. It will say exactly what it needs to say without saying too much.” Franz made a quiet note. Joseline looked visibly pleased. Even Adam’s expression softened by a fraction. Adrian glanced at Sally, just briefly, pride flickering across his face. “Then that’s settled,” he said. “Let’s move forward.” And just like that, the future took another small, deliberate step into the light. -- Adrian waited until Priya finished typing her last note, the faint tapping of glass quieting the room again. He didn’t rush this part. When he spoke, his voice carried the same calm authority he used in boardrooms—but there was something more deliberate beneath it now. “There’s one more thing that needs to be said,” he began. The shift was subtle but unmistakable. Even Adam straightened, attention sharpening. “This pregnancy,” Adrian continued, “does not change the structure of this family in the way people might assume.” Sally felt her mother’s hand tighten gently around hers. “I want to be absolutely clear—internally and externally,” Adrian said. “Sally’s role does not diminish. In fact, it becomes more important.” Sally blinked, caught off guard despite knowing, intellectually, that this conversation had been coming. “She remains my firstborn,” Adrian went on. “She remains the primary public face of the Weiss family. That will not change.” Bridget nodded, her free hand resting protectively over her stomach. “This isn’t about replacement,” she said softly. “It’s about expansion.” Adrian inclined his head toward her, then looked back at the group. “Sally will continue to be the heiress,” he said plainly. “She will retain her own trust, structured independently and securely, as planned. When her brother is born, he will be co-heir—equally loved, equally provided for—but not a reshuffling of hierarchy.” Franz’s pen paused for a fraction of a second, then resumed. This was important. Structural. Intentional. “Publicly,” Adrian continued, “our image remains centered on Sally. Whether we are speaking of Weiss Enterprises, the Pembroke-Weiss Foundation, or the family itself—Sally is the reference point.” Priya looked up, eyes thoughtful. “That clarity will help enormously,” she said. “It avoids speculation before it starts.” “That’s the idea,” Adrian replied. Joseline smiled openly now, warmth shining through her professionalism. “It feels… right,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Continuity with growth.” Adam said nothing, but his gaze moved briefly to Sally, then back to Adrian. Acknowledgment. Theresa, standing just behind Sally’s shoulder, let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Bridget squeezed Sally’s hand again, this time with unmistakable pride. “You don’t get replaced when someone new is loved,” she said gently. “You just become the one who teaches them what love looks like.” Sally swallowed. Her chest felt tight, but not in a bad way. Full. Anchored. She lifted her chin slightly and met her father’s eyes. He gave her the smallest nod—steady, reassuring. The message was unmistakable. Nothing had been taken from her. Something had been entrusted to her. -- The room exhaled. Not all at once—more like a collective easing, shoulders dropping, expressions softening as the weight of the announcement settled into something warm and manageable. Joseline was the first to break the quiet. She pressed a hand lightly to her chest and laughed, a breathy, relieved sound. “I must confess,” she said, glancing between Adrian and Bridget, “for a moment I was certain this meeting was about lease renewals.” Sally blinked, then smiled. “Lease renewals?” Joseline leaned in toward her conspiratorially, lowering her voice as if sharing a state secret. “Your mother’s GLE,” she whispered. “The lease ends next month. I’ve been preparing spreadsheets in my sleep.” Sally laughed outright, the sound light and genuine. “Oh. That.” Joseline’s eyes widened just a little. “You already knew?” “I sort of… oversee that,” Sally said, shrugging modestly. “Cars, last-minute travel plans, sudden changes. Mom delegates. Aggressively.” Joseline’s relief turned into delight. “That is wonderful news. I was worried I would have to make the first suggestion.” “You still can,” Sally said easily. “But coordinate with me. I want something comfortable. Safe. Quiet. She pretends she doesn’t care, but she absolutely does.” Joseline nodded, almost reverent. “Of course. I’ll send you the options. Hybrid included?” “Definitely,” Sally replied. “And nothing flashy. She’s growing a human.” Joseline smiled, warmth radiating now. “You’re very good at this,” she said. Not professionally. Personally. Nearby, Adrian had drifted toward the open doors with Franz and Adam, their voices low and practical—structures, timelines, contingencies. The quiet hum of planning resumed where it always did, steady and contained. Sally watched them for a moment, then turned back to Joseline. “We’ll figure it out,” she said. “All of it.” Joseline nodded. “I know we will.” The sun shifted outside, light catching on white walls and glass, the sea just visible beyond. The meeting was over, but something else had begun—subtle, certain. -- The villa seemed to exhale after the team left. The air still carried faint traces of perfume and polished shoes and important conversations, but the sound of engines pulling away toward the resort signaled the end of business for the afternoon. The white Toyota van disappeared down the palm-lined drive, carrying Theresa, Jana, and the rest of the staff toward Atlantis. Jana had leaned in for a quick hug before leaving. “Six thirty tomorrow,” she had said calmly. “Homeschool. No excuses.” “In the Bahamas?” Sally had protested. “I’m pretty sure homework is illegal on Caribbean soil.” “Tell that to every school-aged child in Nassau,” Jana replied dryly, already halfway to the van. Now the house was quiet. “Not fair,” Sally muttered, though there was no heat in it. Bridget laughed softly, leaning back in her lounge chair by the pool. “Tell that to the Ministry of Education.” Sally flopped down on the sun-warmed stone beside the pool and looked at the water. It shimmered—clear, impossibly blue, reflecting sky and palm fronds. “Anyways,” she said, rolling onto her stomach. “I’m getting comfortable. Can I use the pool?” Bridget’s eyebrows rose cautiously. “You just had the flu.” “I get the homeschooling part,” Sally said dramatically, “but no swimming in the Bahamas? That feels unconstitutional.” Adrian glanced up from his laptop. “I’m not sure Nassau recognizes your constitution.” Bridget pressed her lips together, looking toward the horizon as if consulting invisible weather advisors. “Fine. Short swim. No lingering wet. In, swim, out, dry.” “Deal.” Sally was on her feet before Bridget could add further clauses. She found the one-piece Theresa had packed—simple, navy, practical—and tugged it on. She smiled to herself. Even when no one expected her to swim, someone had thought ahead. Minutes later she slid into the pool. The water was cool at first, but not biting. It wrapped around her like clarity. She pushed off the wall and began slow, lazy laps—no racing, no proving, just movement. Her body stretched and flexed in quiet rhythm. From the lounge chairs, her parents watched. Sally stopped at the edge and rested her forearms on the stone. Water streamed down her shoulders. “It feels almost wrong,” she said thoughtfully. “What does?” Adrian asked without looking up. “That they’re at the hotel while we have this whole place,” she said. “I’m used to people around. It’s strange. They’re probably all laughing together, having fun, and we’re here being… responsible.” Adrian closed his laptop and leaned forward. “Would you prefer to supervise their relaxation schedule while swimming?” Sally shot him a look. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Bridget tilted her head. “Then go.” “Go where?” “Join them,” Bridget said simply. “Take them out. Dinner. Something informal. Show them you’re not just a name on a structure chart.” Sally blinked. “Me? On my own?” Adrian exchanged a glance with Bridget and gave a short nod. “You’re old enough. And you won’t be alone. Jana and Theresa will be there.” Sally leaned her head back into the water, letting it swallow her ears for a second. The world went quiet. Muffled. Floating. When she surfaced again, slicking her hair back, something had shifted. She rested her arms on the edge once more, water slipping from her shoulders. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “It would be cool. Just… strange.” “Only the first time,” Bridget said gently. “After that, it becomes culture. You set the tone. You show them you see them. That it’s not just about you.” Sally considered that. Not about her. She liked that. She pushed away from the edge and swam one final lap, then climbed the pool steps. Sarah, who had been hovering discreetly near the terrace, stepped forward with a large white towel. “Thank you, Sarah,” Sally said, wrapping it around herself. Sarah nodded with quiet professionalism. “Of course, Miss Weiss.” Sally patted her hair dry, the towel warm from the sun. “Let me change,” she called back over her shoulder to her parents. “I’ll talk to Jana about it.” She padded barefoot across the stone, water droplets marking her path. For a moment, she paused at the threshold and glanced back. Her parents sat side by side under the Bahamian sky. Relaxed. Proud. Watching her without hovering. Responsibility no longer felt like a burden. It felt like a door. And she was about to knock. -- Sally sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, hair still damp from the pool, towel abandoned somewhere near the door. She had changed into light linen shorts and a loose coral blouse that matched the sky outside. Her phone felt heavier than usual in her hand. She pressed Jana’s name. It rang twice. “Missing me already, boss?” came Jana’s voice, bright and unapologetically amused in the background hum of the resort lobby. “Not really,” Sally replied coolly. “Not after you threatened to wake me up at six. But I am a forgiving person.” Jana snorted. “Your generosity overwhelms me.” Sally swung her legs off the bed and stood, pacing slowly toward the window overlooking the water. “Sorry if I interrupt your free time…” she began, then hesitated. “This is a work retreat, not a vacation,” Jana corrected smoothly. “What can I do for you?” Sally straightened instinctively, like she was standing in that living room again. “I need a reservation. Seven people. Dune. Tomorrow evening. Six pm.” She paused, trying to sound steady, decisive. Not like a girl experimenting with adulthood. There was a beat of silence. “Elegant,” Jana said approvingly. “Leave it with me. I’ll have Joseline coordinate it properly. Any special occasion?” “Yes,” Sally replied, her voice softening just slightly. “I need to extend six invitations. To join me for dinner.” “Anybody I know?” Jana asked lightly. Sally exhaled through her nose, then said it plainly. “You. And the rest of the team who were here today.” There was a longer pause this time. Not confusion. Not resistance. Surprise. On the other end, Jana shifted somewhere quieter. “Cool,” she said finally, her tone tightening into that crisp assistant mode that always masked her real emotions. “I accept. I’ll extend the invitations and confirm attendance. I’ll get you a final headcount as soon as they respond.” “Thank you,” Sally said. “Social-casual?” Jana prompted. “Yes. Relaxed, but not sloppy. I don’t want anyone feeling like they need to show up in boardroom armor.” Jana hummed in approval. “Understood.” Sally leaned her forehead briefly against the cool glass, watching the sea darken toward evening. “Jana?” “Yes?” “Don’t make it sound like an order.” A softer pause. “I won’t,” Jana said. “I’ll make it sound like you meant it.” Sally smiled to herself. “I did.” “I know,” Jana replied. The line clicked off. Sally lowered the phone slowly. For the first time that day, responsibility didn’t feel like something handed to her. It felt chosen.

The Teacher By Kenk7us Caela had just turned 19 years old and already graduated from college with her teaching certificate! You see her grandmother had home schooled Caela, before she died! Caela had entered the twelfth grade at fourteen years old while living at the state orphanage, graduated and received a partial scholarship at the local community college, but still was fifteen thousand dollars in debt with student loans! Working as a greeter at a local restaurant since she left the orphanage Caela had only been able to save about fifteen hundred dollars. She had sent out numerous r?sum?'s and been to several interviews for teaching positions. But the small girl at only four feet six and a half inches tall and a petite 70 lbs did not seem to interest the educators she had talked to. It did not seem to matter that Caela had graduated in the top ten percent of her class with a major in art and a minor in education! Then just two weeks before school started she got the letter asking her to interview for a private school for girls just three hundred miles from her home! The interview was done over the phone and Caela got the job and prepared to move to her new town. Caela arrived by bus on Thursday morning, she was wearing a navy blue business suit ,white blouse and high-heeled pumps. Caela had put her long blonde hair up , carefully padded the padded bra she had bought and put on make up trying to look as adult as possible , it was a real stretch for the small girl who really did not even need a training bra!   Arriving at the school by taxi ,Caela paid the driver and entered the school at the front entrance. Caela new that it was a private school for girl's kindergarten thru eighth grade. Also she had found out it was not a boarding school all the students lived at home with their parents. Caela felt her luggage would be safe as she left it in the front hallway and went to find the headmistress office. As the young girl made her way further into the school a voice startled her. Where do belong young lady and what is that on your face ! Caela turned to see a heavyset woman probably in her early forties glaring at her, excuse me said Caela I was just looking for the headmistress "s office ? The woman grabbed Caela by the hand , not like that your not and drug her in to the bathroom! Stopping at the washbasin she demanded now wash your face this minute young lady! Nooooooo yelled Caela , leave me alone! Don't you give me your backtalk young lady, grabbing the girl hard by the hand, she pulled her over to the sofa in the lady's room. Grabbing the bottom of the girls skirt she pulled it up ,above the girls waist! What the hell do you think you are doing yelled Caela! The large woman pulled Caela across her lap pulled her panty hose and panty's down around her ankles and began to spank the young girls behind! First Caela screamed then she started to cry as the large woman smacked her behind twenty times, are you ready to wash that face now young lady Caela sobbing on the lady's lap nodded her head as the lady helped her to her feet! Caela woddled to the washbasin rubbing her red behind and began washing her face anything to please this lunatic! The Teacher ch 2 The young girl tuned on the water at the sink as she continued to rub her sore behind. Looking back at the lady she said "may I please fix my clothes my' am. "Not until you get that face washed clean". The young girl still crying began slowly washing her face, what had she done, was there a rule against makeup? Just as Caela finished the lady walked to her she fixed the girls clothes, and pulled the bobby pins out of Caela's hair as it fell to her shoulders. "What are you doing dressed like this child makeup. High-heeled shoes, and panty hose a child of your age" Caela looked at the woman, finally realizing but I am not a student she thought. Then the girl finally spoke up "I see you think I am a student, boy are you in trouble you big bully I am Caela Stevens the new art teacher I am going to have you arrested, for assault" Stunned for just a second the older woman looked down at the small girl, composing her self she grabbed the girl by the hand, and half drug the stumbling young girl to the headmistress office Caela losing a shoe on the way. Arriving at the headmistress office, dragging the girl, they ran right in to the headmistress She was a tall thin woman with gray hair and maybe in early Fifty's she was wearing a gray skirt and black silk blouse " What is going on Helen" "Jane" as soon as Caela heard the name she began screaming" Jane are you Jane White the Headmistress here, I am Caela Stevens and I want this bitch arrested" Jane immediately grabbed the young girl by the ear and took her to the nearest corner, giving Caela two hard swats to her already sore behind, young lady we don't use language like that at the Hillary Bradshaw School for girls. Now you keep your nose in this corner, or you will get a spanking that makes whatever Helen gave you seem like tickling, do you understand!" Caela just stood there and nodded, she new she did not want another spanking, these people are nuts anyway maybe if she minds them now, she can reason with them later. Jane motioned Helen to follow entered her office and closed the door. Meanwhile the secretary Miss Vickie sitting at her desk watching all this said" You better keep your nose in that corner young lady I have my eye on you. " What seemed like hours but in reality only about twenty-five minutes, Caela heard the door open and footsteps leaving the office, she did not dare look. A couple of minutes later Miss Vickie said "young lady Ms Jane will see you now she is waiting in her office hurry now." The young girl entered the office "please take a seat young lady" I would rather stand thank you. "Sit!!!!!!!!!" Caela sat immediately but gently on the chair. Ms Jane formally introduced her self and welcomed Caela to the school formalities aside she began. "Young lady upon first seeing you I was not sure what I was going to do with you I was and I am considering sending you back where you came from" Caela in a panic began to speak. "But my' am I have know place to go back too I quit my job, gave up my apartment" the girl feeling over whelmed began to cry sobbing" what did I do wrong." Ms Jane walked to the young girl kneeled down an put her arm around the crying girl "Nothing dear you did nothing wrong, calm down and let Ms Jane think" The headmistress then left the room, all the time thinking what am I to do with this child. After thirty minutes, and several phone calls Ms Jane returned to the room. Caela was sitting quietly in her chair headdown, no longer concerned, with the spanking she had received only the job she needed so badly. "Caela sweetheart I have decided you can stay, but you will have to follow some very special rules?????????? THE TEACHER CH 3 Caela sat there in the headmistress office relieved that she was staying but wondering about the special rules? Ms. Jane sat down at her desk and smiled at the young girl," Well young lady are you ready to abide by my special school rules" How could Caela answer what were the rules she wondered "yes ma'am I will do anything I really need this job, it was my last chance to teach this year" Caela felt a shiver run down her spine what had she agreed to, why had she answered so fast, what choice did she have? Ms. Jane smiled then nodded to the young girl "then let me explain the rules to you. Here at the Hillary Bradshaw School for Girls, we believed in strict discipline. Our girls are spanked on their bare behinds as needed, with hand, brush or paddle. To maintain that discipline" Caela looked wide hide at the tall lady but did not say a word just continued listening. "Also are girls are not allowed makeup loutish jewelry or earrings. They are required to wear a school uniform. There is one other very special rule" Ms Jane paused she was waiting for Caela to say something. Quietly almost in a whisper Caela spoke" what rule is that Ms Jane's. Jane stood up from her desk and continued,"for over 60 years the number one rule at the school has always been, A wet bed at night requires diapers for a year, wet panties during the day requires diapers during the day. All the parents agree to this before sending their girls here." Caela sat there stunned "but what does all that have to do with me Ms Jane?" The headmistress walked over to the young girl and again began speaking "We have three hundred girls in this school, two hundred and sixty of them where diapers during the day, and to the best of my knowledge all of them wear diapers at night, you could be two hundred and sixtyone!"Caela was so stunned she had a hard time thinking much less speaking but finally she spoke." But I am and adult I am nineteen years old you couldn't you wouldn't make me wear diapers? Ms Jane sat on the corner of her desk smiling " that depends on whether or not you can keep your panties and bed dry. I expect to treat you like any other child in my charge. You will teach three Art classes a day, your teaching will tend to diaper changes and discipline, yours or your students as needed. You will not be required to wear a uniform but you will be dressed appropriately as a little girl should be. You will participate in physical education as a student and wear the uniform, a school t-shirt diaper or white cotton panties and tennis shoes. Also you will eat lunch at the students table you are assigned and you will mind and respect every real adult in the school, do you understand?" Caela needed to think, this could not be happening, she was not a little girl, but then what could she do she needed this job. The young girl simply nodded her head she new she had no choice. "Now Caela about your living arrangements. I have made some arrangements for you to live with a friend of mine. She had a daughter about your age till she died two years ago. from a heart condition. She has been very lonely and is thrilled to have a little girl to take care of. Let me go see if she has arrived yet?" As Ms Jane left the office Caela began to panic, what a little girl to take care of. Caela was in deep trouble now! See Caela had a deep secret Caela in all her would be adult glory wets the bed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello my name is Lilly! I am relatively new to being incontinent and have been wearing diapers 24/7 since this past fall. My issues started after a severe Covid infection then a series of UTIs, and my issues escalated to the point I am now dependent on diapers. I am currently seeing medical professionals and have a slew of diagnoses as well as a cocktail of medicine but healing is slow. So in the meantime I am hoping to find some support among others who understand how life changing incontinence can be.