Sarah_Hillcrest

Chapter 18 Linda stared at her friend in disbelief. “Your husband was in the mafia? And you’re going to get us new identities?” she asked. Martha frowned, “Hector wasn’t in the mafia, he just worked for a guy who was.” “I thought Hector was a truck driver?” “He was a truck driver, and most of the time what he did was totally legit, but some of his cargo wasn’t.” Linda looked at her friend in a new light, she’d gone from nosy next door neighbor, to best friend, and now married to the mob? “I don’t know, this sounds risky?” “Do you have a better idea?” Linda shook her head. Truth was she had no idea what she was going to do. They were now in the system, Kendra had called and visited already this week. She showed up at Martha’s front door, since that was the only address she had. Martha convinced her that Linda and Jim had returned back home to Texas. Kendra didn’t really buy it. “What about Jim? It’s an hour drive to Sarasota, then we’ll have to leave him in the car. And I can’t leave him alone anymore.” Linda asked. “Can we hire a baby sitter?” Martha asked. Linda rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, he’s a kid now, we tell them he has developmental issues.” Linda got up and started pacing, “What if he starts telling them about his mailman job, and that I’m actually his wife, oh and why am I treating a 12 year old like he’s 4? This is too much, we get new IDs and then what. Go in witness protection?” Martha opened her mouth to respond when the sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway cut through the room. They both turned to the front window. A car door shut. “Oh no,” Linda whispered. Martha squinted, then gasped. “Is that Daniel?” Linda was already moving. “What is he doing here again?” Martha pulled the curtain aside just in time to see Daniel pull a duffel bag from the back seat. He looked… different. His hair was longer, his face noticeably softer, and his posture somehow more self-conscious. He wore a loose hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, but even with the casual male clothing his gender was androgynous. Linda opened the door just as he was lifting his hand to knock. “Daniel, why don’t you ever call before just showing up?” she asked, more as a question than a greeting. “I need a place to stay,” he said, his voice more brittle than she remembered. “Mom kicked me out. Found me in a dress.” Martha stepped up beside her. “Sweetheart, you okay?” He laughed bitterly. “Oh, just peachy. My body's changing, my hormones are shot, and I’m being chased by thousands of Twitch fans who think I’m coming out as trans for clout. You’re the only people who I can actually be honest with right now.” “I’m sorry,” Linda said, reaching for his hand. Daniel hesitated, then let her take it. “Good,” he said. “Because I’m gonna need help figuring out what the hell I’m turning into.” They brought him inside and sat him at the kitchen table. After tea and a summary of the current situation with Kendra, Linda looked over at Martha and then back to Daniel. “I hate to ask,” she began, “but you might be the answer to our biggest problem right now.” Daniel narrowed his eyes. “You want me to…?” Linda sighed. “Watch Jim. Just for the afternoon. We have to drive down to Sarasota, and I can’t leave him alone. He’s slipping further into toddler mode, but sometimes he still thinks he’s an adult. It could be really dangerous. And, well, he trusts you.” Daniel let out a snort. “He trusts me? He barely knows me.” “Well I trust you, a he remembers enough,” Linda said. “And… he likes pretty girls,” Martha said gently. Daniel glared. “Are you serious?” Linda shrugged. “You wanted in on this. Well, this is part of it. Being the responsible one. He needs a sitter, and you’re all we’ve got.” Martha brushed back her hair, “You mean you don’t have a strong urge to take care of children and babies?” she said. “I don’t know, I’ve never really liked kids, and that hasn’t changed. But everything else… It's weird. I feel stuff.” Daniel began to open up and words flooded out of him, “Like… I cry at movies now. I feel hurt when someone’s mean to me online. And when people are nice? I mean really nice? It’s like… I get this warm feeling in my chest like I want to hug them or something.” “I used to just blow stuff off, like, whatever, screw 'em. Now it’s like my brain just won’t stop spinning about it. It’s exhausting. And food tastes different. Smells too. I get emotional for no reason, I see some flowers and suddenly I’m tearing up. What the hell is that?” “And my body, Martha, it’s not just the boobs. I’m cold all the time, my skin feels sensitive like I can’t stand the tags in my clothes. And I get these… feelings. Like, I just want someone to hold me. Not sex, something else. Closeness. Like I’m lonely but not in the same way I used to be.” Linda and Martha gave each other a knowing grin, “Congratulations Daniel, you’re experiencing female puberty, you're finally becoming a woman,” Martha said with a grin. Daniel dropped his head to the table and groaned. “I was a gaming god three months ago. Now I’m about to babysit my uncle in a diaper while growing boobs.” “Life comes at you fast,” Martha muttered. Daniel lifted his head, a small smile cracking through. “Fine. But I’m not changing him.” “You probably won’t have to,” Linda said, standing up. “He’s good for a few hours after his morning change.” As they gathered their things, Daniel sighed again and looked around the quiet, sunlit house. “So… what do I even do with him?” “Put on some cartoons,” Martha called. “Maybe have a snack together.” Linda said as they left. Daniel watched them leave, then walked over to the living room where Jim sat cross-legged on the floor, stacking plush blocks and humming to himself. Jim looked up, his pacifier bobbing. “Hi, Dani.” Daniel blinked. “Yeah… hi, kiddo.” He sat down beside him. “So this is my life now,” he murmured. “Well… at least you’re cute.” Jim giggled and shoved a block into his lap. “Okay, fine. We build a tower,” Daniel said with a small smile. “But I’m still not changing you.”

Chapter 17 Martha pulled a notebook from a small safe in her closet. She took out a small snub nosed pistol, a thick wad of cash, and a bundle of driver logs. Then she pulled out a small box of jewelry that belonged to her mother, all beautiful pieces, but an emerald ring caught her eye and she put it on her finger. “OK Martha, you can do this,” she said. Martha looked through the bundle of driver logs and written on the inside cover was the name Benny and a few phone numbers. The first two she dialed were disconnected, the fourth one was picked up by a woman, “Hello, DiMaggio residence?” “Umm, hello, I’m calling for Benny DiMagio?” Martha said. “Benny? Who’s this?” the voice asked? There was a pause, just long enough to make Martha wonder if the line had gone dead. Then, the woman’s voice softened. “Hang on.” Muffled sounds. Footsteps. A man’s gruff voice in the background: “Who?” “Someone Hector used to know. Says it’s important.” A few more seconds passed. Then a raspy male voice came on the line, still thick with sleep or age. “This is Benny.” “Hector told me to call you if I ever needed help, and… I need some help,” Martha said. There was another long pause. “Jesus. Hector’s Martha?” Benny finally said. “He’s been dead for what, ten years?” “Eleven actually.” “He was a good man, very punctual. What kind of trouble could you be in?” “It’s not for me, a friend, she’s got a kid, and needs to disappear.. She needs IDs, for her and her baby.” “Are you getting scammed, like is this some Guadamalian you picked up in a Wal-Mart parking lot. “No, nothing like that. I had a close friend who died awhile back, and this is her daughter. She’s like my daughter now, and her kid is like my grandson. I’ve known them for years. “Well what’s wrong, why do they gotta disappear, is the law involved,” the gruff voice asked. Martha hadn’t really thought about that, but a story formed in her mind and she went with it. “It’s her X, he’s trying to get custody, he was abusive and she’d had enough. He has friends back where she lived. He’s made it look like she was abusive and they are trying to take her son.” “Huh,” Benny said. “Sounds like a piece of shit. 20 years ago we’d pay someone like that a visit and take care of it real quick. “She just wants to get away from him and make a new life,” Martha explained. Another pause. Then a slow, dry chuckle. “I would have never chosen to live the life I’ve lived if it hadn’t given me the opportunity to help those who I cared for. Your husband was a good man, and loyal and he only asked for one thing. Martha Delgado, it’s time I repaid that. You got a car?” “Yes.” “Drive to Sarasota. There’s a bait shop called Angelo’s. Ask for Red. Tell him you’re the one Benny owes a favor to. He’ll know what to do. Make sure your friend is with you, he’ll need photos.” “Thank you,” Martha said quietly. “You’re gonna need cash though, is that a problem?" Hector asked “How much cash?” “A few thousand, Red does good work,” Martha looked at the fat roll of 100 dollar bills Hector had left her, “That won’t be a problem.”

Couple funny things recently. I've shaved my legs and my face, which I haven't done in years. I went to meet up some friends for a bike ride yesterday morning and it wasn't long before someone commented on my face and legs asking if I was going for maximum aero gains, (most serious racers shave their legs) In my typical fashion I said, "That's not all I shaved, I got it all, balls, taint, asscrack. I almost did my head." Everyone thought that was funny. I also wore some really colorful socks, and someone asked where I got those socks, "Got them from Wal-Mart, these are my Pride socks, I forgot to wear them in June," Now this is perfectly true, and I said it as serious a way as possible, and what cracks me up is I don't think they could tell if I was being funny or serious. Went to a family gathering for 4th of July, and wore a goodnite. Was being asked all kinds of questions about my beard being shaved. I told them I was trying to look younger, my grey beard had been getting me down, didn't mention it vastly improved my crossdressing photos. Then my brother was like, "You should do a Depends Commercial, it'd be perfect, out on your paddleboard in the lake trying to look young. That got alot of laughs, and I laughed to even though I thought it was kind of insensitive. I mainly laughed since I was wearing a Pull-up. I said, "If I fell off the paddleboard wearing Depends they would swell up and pull me under."

Last night for a big family gathering I went with XXL goodnites, but tried to avoid using it as much as possible. For the most part I've been using Seni Quatros lately and finding they are excellent in every situation except when I want to wear a cute diaper.

This thing fit together so well I'd hate to cut it up, it's actually really cool, I hung out under the bed for awhile with some stuffies and read a book. Very cozy little spot.

Thank you! When I started this story my intent was to focus solely on the Patton's de-aging and transformation and avoid gender, many of the stories I've written in the past get gender change elements thrown in. Well, try as I might I ended up gender swapping Daniel. In my youth I was really into DMing and GMing RPG games. My favorite thing was weaving together a plot, just letting elements happen where they fit. Daniel was supposed to be a foil, a guy who saw the virus has his chance to fix his life, but he got more than he bargained for.

I want to thank EVERYONE! who has supported me and the story by reading on Kindle or buying the book. I am truly honored that my writing has found an audience. I write every morning for about 2 hours. I'm currently working on a sequel to this story, and a non-fiction ABDL book, which by the way, I"m looking for some collaborators if anyone is interested. I plan on posting all the chapters of The Gift, but after this one I'll start removing the earlier chapters so I don't violate kindle's policy. Chapter 16 Daniel rubbed his temples, then dragged his hands down his face in frustration. “Guys, seriously, I’m not transitioning. I’m just switching up my look, okay?” The chat scrolled relentlessly: user420: “Bro, you’ve said that like five times.” PixieNite: “It’s giving egg 🌈💅” RetroFan77: “We love Briella. Just be you, girl 💖” Then a giant superchat box flashed on screen: $50 from OGDragon: “I’ve been here since the start. Time to come out, man. The trolls are gone. We’re all in on Briella.” Daniel stiffened. “Okay. I’m done for tonight.” KnightSnack: “Wait! How many of y’all would drop cash if our girl shows up glam tomorrow? Dress, wig, and maybe some makeup. let’s razzle dazzle!” Small donations started rolling in one after another, the notification sounds piling on top of each other. Daniel watched the ticker climb—$5, $10, $20... Then another superchat exploded onto the screen: $250 from DeeZeeSimp: “If Dannyboy’s lookin’ cute tomorrow, I’ll match this. Let’s goooo.” Daniel hesitated, mouth dry. “I’m... I’ll think about it.” He reached for the mouse and quickly ended the stream. The silence afterward felt like a vacuum. *** Daniel checked both directions while he tried to look through a rack of tops without “looking” like he was looking for one. They’ll think I’m shopping for my girlfriend, this is no big deal. Goodwill seemed like a good choice to get something cheap and he was sure that no one would bother him. Eventually he found the dress section. Daniel had always been slim for a middle aged guy who spends most his time gaming. After he did some research and a few measurements, he figured he could wear a size 14 or 16 dress, which he was sad to see placed him in the plus size category. Still there were lots to choose from. He quickly lost his reluctance as he began browsing through the dresses. So many colors, styles, patterns. He then realized that several women nearby were looking and no one paid him any attention. He started taking things off the rack and holding them up to him. Then he saw it, Briella’s dress. A white ruffled dress, adorned with lace, with a gathered bodice and princess sleeves. He held it up to him then nervously looked around. No one was paying a bit of attention to him. Daniel stood in front of the cracked full-length mirror tucked into the corner of the Goodwill fitting area, adjusting the white lacey dress over his frame. It had delicate floral embroidery and a slight poof to the skirt, something between a garden party outfit and a low-budget bridal rehearsal look. It was marked size 14, and to his surprise, it fit. A little snug in the shoulders, maybe, but it zipped. That alone felt like a win. He knew it was absurd. He looked ridiculous. And yet… there was something intoxicating about it. The sheer absurdity of it, the softness of the fabric, the way it made his arms and legs look almost fragile in the mirror. He grabbed his hoodie, threw it over the dress, and bolted from the fitting room before he lost his nerve. On the way to the register, he passed the accessories and noticed a synthetic chestnut wig perched lopsided on a display head. It had thick bangs and curled slightly at the shoulders. It looked more cosplay than couture, but something about it made him stop. He picked it up. It was $7.99. What the hell. His chat would eat it up. At the checkout, a cashier with short purple hair and a silver septum ring scanned his items. “Cute dress,” she said with a little smile. “Doing a themed shoot or something?” Daniel cleared his throat. “Uh, no. Just… streaming.” “Oh! Twitch?” He nodded. “That wig is gonna photograph really well,” she said. Then, without missing a beat: “Girl you’re gonna look great.” Daniel blinked. “What?” The cashier just shrugged, still smiling. “The dress, the wig. I mean, you’re clearly going for a look. You’ll kill it.” He didn’t answer, just grabbed the bag and left, feeling like his face was on fire. He couldn’t decide what unsettled him more, that she’d assumed he was dressing up as a woman… or that he hadn’t corrected her. Twenty minutes later, Daniel was in a Walgreens, scanning a wall of makeup kits like he was defusing a bomb. He snatched a “Glam Beginner's Essentials” kit off the shelf foundation, powder, lip gloss, blush, mascara, and a tiny instruction card with a cartoon of a doe-eyed girl. He added a pair of press-on nails and a set of makeup remover wipes for good measure. As he stood at the checkout, he caught a glimpse of himself in the security mirror. White hoodie zipped halfway up. Wig box under his arm. Makeup in hand. A different person stared back. Not Briella. Not Daniel. Someone in between. He didn’t smile. He didn’t panic. He just paid and left. *** The overhead ring light cast a soft, flattering glow on Daniel’s face as he adjusted the camera one last time. He took a steadying breath, reached up, and tugged the chestnut wig into place. The synthetic bangs framed his face just right, softer now, a bit thinner in the cheeks than he remembered from a few months ago. He smoothed the front of the white lacey dress. With the padded bra underneath, the slight puff of his developing chest gave it just enough shape. Over the bodice was the faux-leather belt he’d added as a nod to Aurelia’s Embrace, the magical item that had started this whole transformation in his fantasy RPG. In the right light, it looked like cosplay. But when he sat down and looked at the monitor… It didn’t look like Daniel in drag. It looked like her. “Okay chat,” he said, his voice soft but steady, “you win.” The stream exploded. 💬 OMG YESSSSS BRI-BRI LOOKS AMAZING 💬 Our girl is glowing fr fr 💬 $100 DONO IF SHE DOES THE BUBBLEGUM KISS FACE AGAIN The tips and superchats came rolling in, each one triggering a sound effect he’d programmed weeks ago. Chimes, bells, fireworks. He barely had time to read them all. At one point, a fan offered to commission artwork of Briella for his Twitch banner. Another sent in a voice message calling her “the queen of cleric cosplay.” Daniel laughed until he cried. Real tears. He wasn’t pretending tonight. He was Briella. The makeup had made his skin glow. The press-on nails made typing slower but prettier. And when he did the end-of-stream thank-you shoutouts wearing a fake tiara one of his fans sent the previous week, he didn’t feel humiliated. He felt seen. He signed off at 2:11 AM, peeled off the wig, and curled up on top of his comforter without even changing out of the dress. He’d clean up tomorrow. *** Mary carried a basket of clothes down the stairs. She was feeling bad about her last conversation with her son. Maybe he was just growing up? She sat her basket down and checked the door of his basement apartment, it wasn’t locked. She went in and found Daniel splayed out across the bed still in the delicate dress, the wig beside him and face covered with smeared makeup. “What the hell is this!” Daniel bolted upright with a gasp, mascara-streaked eyes wide. “Mom, what, what are you doing?” “I live here! What are you doing?” She took a sharp step forward, eyes raking over the mess. “Are you crossdressing now? Is this some kind of kink? Have you lost your damn mind?” Daniel rubbed his eyes, trying to find his footing. “It’s not, Look, it’s not what you think.” “No? Because what I think is I just found my forty-eight-year-old son passed out in a wedding dress.” “It’s not a wedding dress. It’s a costume, well, kind of. It’s stream content.” Mary blinked. “You’re dressing up like a woman for strangers on the internet?!” Daniel stood up, stumbling a bit as the hem of the lace caught under his foot. “Yes! And guess what? I made almost two grand last night!” That stopped her cold. He ran a hand through his hair and pointed toward his computer. “People love Briella. It’s a character, like cosplay. I do voices, I wear outfits. It’s like acting. You know how many guys are out there throwing cash at girl streamers? You think I was gonna make money being another middle-aged dude playing video games?” Mary’s mouth opened, then shut. “I tried doing things your way,” he continued, his voice picking up steam. “I tried jobs, I tried being normal. It never worked. But this? This works. I finally found something I’m good at, something people want from me.” “You mean they want to look at you dressed like a doll,” she snapped. “It’s easy money!” Daniel shouted. “You think I want to wear a dress and makeup? No! But they love it! They pay more when I lean into it. I’m not stupid, I’m giving the audience what they want.” Mary crossed her arms. “And what about what I want? What would your father have wanted?” Daniel looked away. “He’s dead. And you just want me to sit in the basement and rot.” “I want you to act like a man!” she snapped. “Well maybe being a man never worked out that well for me,” he muttered. Mary stared at him, really stared. Then, slowly, she set the laundry basket down. “This isn’t just an act, is it?” she said quietly. Daniel didn’t answer. Mary shook her head, stunned. “You’re not just doing this for your streaming, ever since you got back from Florida you’ve been different. Did you get estrogen down there, go to a transgender camp or something?” “What is the big deal, it’s a dress and makeup, why are you being such a bitch?” Daniel whined. “You need help. Go to the doctor, go get some counseling, go see Father Brown,” she demanded. “No Mom, I’m not doing that, I’m fine.” “No Daniel you're not, this has gone on long enough, you’re not living here in a life of sin and debauchery under my roof. If this is how you’re going to make money I want you out!” He stood straighter, still dressed in the soft, lacey dress that hugged his changing body in ways he could no longer deny. “Fine,” he said, voice flat. “I’ll go.” Mary blinked. “What?” “You want me gone? Then I’ll go.” He turned toward the desk and unplugged his laptop, then moved to the closet for his backpack. “I’ve got some money saved. I’ll figure it out.” Mary was silent. Daniel leaving? She believed he would stay here until she passed away. “Wait a minute now where are you going to go?” Daniel had a moment of doubt, he felt the female emotions welling up and started to cry. “You don’t understand, I didn’t want this, but I can’t stop it,” he said. Mary stood in the doorway, arms still crossed, but her expression flickered, confusion, fear, and something dangerously close to sympathy. “What do you mean you can’t stop it?” she asked, more softly now. Daniel wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing mascara and leaving a faint streak of foundation across his cheek. He couldn’t even look at her. “I mean… it’s like I’m turning into someone else. My body, my feelings, the way people look at me, it’s all different. And the worst part is, part of me… likes it.” His voice cracked. Mary waved her hands in frustration, “Just stop taking the hormones, that’s what’s got you like this, you’re a man, you don’t understand what it’s like to feel like a woman.” Daniel sighed, it seemed like his only choice, the truth would only make him seem more crazy, “No Mom, I can’t.” Mary took a few steps back and then asked, “Where are you going to go?” “I’m going to go stay with Linda, she needs help now anyway that Jim is dying.” “You think she’s going to be fine letting her transgendered nephew move in?” “She already knows,” he said. Mary nodded with a grim expression, turned on her heels and walked back up to her bedroom where she cried for nearly an hour. She was still on her bed when she heard Daniel’s car leaving the driveway.

Found this at a thrift store, they said they had it forever and had been marking it down from $116, to $58, and then $29. Problem was they only had one piece of it in a corner, and a small sign that said IKEA Loft bed, rest in back. It can be flipped over and becomes a canopy bed. I'm somehow under the weight range, and twin size mattress fit on it. It's got serious changing table vibes to me, but it's too high, and while it's easy to climb on, it's still kind of hard. Suppose to use a thinner mattress than what I have here so that the guard rails are higher.

I'm so sorry, I'll see if I can make it available to other countries.

Continuing the decorating work. A thrift store near me as a Ikea loft bed, for 29 dollars. I think I'm going to try to get it next week. I really need a couch, or something in here to relax on, my floor changing palette is not great.

I hide diapers in my closet from the age of around 9 to 20. Just them inside a cardboard box of something I bought. I hide a baby diaper at the bottom of my underwear drawer like an idiot at age 9 and it was found quickly. I don't think the closet stash was ever discovered.

Hate to hear that! Hope it gets better.

Wow, thanks I assumed it was just for sale other places. I also didn't realize it auto renews in 90 days. Will I be fine as long as the entire story isn't posted here?

If anyone is a kindle user and wants to read the book that way, here's a link. The book will be free on 6/27/25 I'd love to get some reviews on it. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FFHF7JTC

Update on the story: This should be live on Kindle soon. I'm not publishing because I'm expecting to make money, though money is nice and buys more diapers. I'm publishing it because it's the first story I've written that I feel is good enough to be shared. I've spent probably 5 hours going back through and editing, formatting using he kindle creator app to get it formatted. I would much rather read stories on my Kindle then try to read them on this forum, and if I liked a story I would definitely pay a few bucks to do that. Thanks for the encouragement and I will continue updating this story here at about a chapter a week. I'm 20,000 words into the sequel to this story which deals with Martha and Daniella, while I wouldn't call it "smut" it is a bit less wholesome then this story. Hugs and Kisses, Sarah Chapter 15 Linda and Martha met back up a few blocks from their house. “I checked, Veterans Park, and walked all over the neighborhood." Linda said, nearly shaking with distress. Her eyes were red, her breathing shallow. “He’s not anywhere I thought he’d be. What if someone saw him? What if…” “Linda,” Martha interrupted gently but firmly, grabbing her arm. “You’ve been looking for a lost toddler.” Linda blinked. “What?” “You’ve been looking in all the places a little kid might wander off to. But Jim’s not just a toddler. Not completely. What if he woke up... confused? What if it was the other part of him driving this?” Linda’s mouth fell open slightly as the realization landed. “You mean.” “I mean, if he thought he was still a grown man, he’d go somewhere he thought he was supposed to be. Like work.” Linda took a step back, a horrified gasp escaping her lips. “The post office.” Martha was already pulling out her phone. “Get in the car. We’re checking there. Now.” As they sprinted toward Martha’s car, Linda’s heart pounded with a new kind of fear. If Jim had gone to the post office dressed like that, looking the way he did, there was no telling what might’ve happened… or who he’d talked to. *** “This kind of thing isn’t that unusual with special needs kids. They can have the mind of a toddler and the body of a teenager,” a woman in a business suit said as she followed the mail carrier into the small office. “Allright Sis, I got to go, you got it from here?” The woman nodded and sat her zippered duffle bag on the table. She took a sniff of the sour air. “You sure you don’t want to stay and help?” The carrier laughed nervously. “You’re the one with the license, the mail waits for no one” She gave the boy a sympathetic look before slipping back out the door. The woman turned her full attention to Jim, her expression calm and practiced but just barely hiding her concern. “My name’s Kendra. I’m with Family Services. Can you tell me your name, sweetie?” Jim blinked at her, pacifier still bobbing slightly between his lips. He looked down at his soaked shorts, the dark stain unmistakable against the fabric. Then, slowly, he reached up, popped the pacifier out with a soft pop, and mumbled, “Jim....” Kendra’s brows lifted slightly, but her tone remained neutral. “Is that right? Well, I think you might’ve had a little accident. Would it be okay if I helped you get cleaned up?” Jim didn’t respond, but didn’t resist as she gently guided him toward a small padded bench by the wall. As he moved, his oversized cargo shorts slid down a bit, revealing the bright blue onesie underneath. “I’m going to remove your shorts so I can get you changed, OK?” she asked. Jim nodded sheepishly. She unbuttoned them and slid them down his waist revealing the onesie’s snaps bulging at the crotch from the weight of a clearly soaked diaper. She laid him on the bench and unbuttoned the snaps and did a double take, she saw he was wearing an adult sized replica of a baby diaper badly in need of changing. Kendra exhaled slowly through her nose. “Okay,” she said more to herself than to him. “That’s definitely not Huggies.” She crouched down and unzipped her duffle. From inside she pulled out a disposable pad, gloves, wipes, and a fresh youth-sized pull-up. She paused at the last item, frowning. “Not gonna cut it,” she muttered, and grabbed two of them to layer. Jim stared at the ceiling, dazed. “Linda usually changes me...” Kendra offered a soft smile. “Well, I’m going to help this time. Okay? Is Linda your Mommy?” He nodded slowly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment but too far gone into toddler-space to object. As she worked, professionally, but gently, she continued her quiet chatter. “I’ve seen all kinds of situations, sweetie. You’re not the first big boy to have accidents. It happens more than people think.” Alarm bells were going off in her brain, the onesie, the diaper, the way this boy behaved was very suspect. This kid didn’t just have an accident. Was someone keeping him like this? She finished wiping him clean and double-diapered him with the pull-ups, snapping the damp onesie back into place as best she could and pulled his cargo shorts back up. Then she sat back on her heels and looked him in the eye. “Okay, champ. Can you tell me where you live?” Jim chewed his pacifier for a moment, then mumbled, “My house, with Linda.” Kendra jotted the name down in a small notebook. “You said Linda is your mommy?” He hesitated. “She’s… she’s my mommy.” Kendra blinked. Before she could ask more, the office door opened sharply, and a flustered woman burst inside followed by the clerk. “Jim!” Linda cried. Her eyes locked on her regressed husband, changed, powdered, diapered, and now sucking a pacifier like a guilty toddler. Jim’s eyes lit up at the sight of her, “Mommy, I’m scared,” he said. “Ma’am?” Kendra rose to her feet. “Are you the legal guardian of this child?” “I, yes, I’m Linda. He’s... he’s my responsibility,” Linda said quickly, stepping forward. “You have ID?” Kendra asked, already reaching for her bag. Linda patted herself down. “I…no. I was in such a rush, we’ve been searching for him for over an hour, I must’ve left my wallet.” Martha followed her in, “I’m so glad we found you, baby boy.” she said. “And you are?” Kendra asked. “I’m Martha Delgado,” she said, pulling her driver’s license out of her purse and holding it up. “I’m his grandmother. And this is my daughter-in-law, Linda. She lives with me.” Kendra took the ID, eyeing it carefully. “And you can vouch for her? That she’s responsible for the boy?” “Yes, absolutely,” Martha said without hesitation. “He’s a special-needs child. Has been since he was very young. We’ve managed everything privately, with home care and personal routines. His episodes are getting worse, and we’re looking into professional help. This was just… a very bad morning.” Kendra folded her arms, not convinced yet. “And his name is James?” “Yes,” Martha and Linda said together. Linda continued, “James Patrick Delgado. We just call him Jim, after his grandfather, he used to work here.” Kendra raised an eyebrow. “The one who’s… not around?” “Passed last year,” Martha said quickly, her voice perfectly tuned to that grieving-but-composed tone. “It’s been hard on the boy. Regression’s gotten worse since then.” Kendra sighed, her professional demeanor cracking slightly. “I don’t love this, but I do understand. I’ve seen more confusing situations with less explanation. Normally, I’d take him into custody for observation and interview, but…” She glanced at her watch. “I’m already late for my next appointment, and I know better than most what kind of disruption that would cause for a child like him.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a form. “This is a temporary release of custody. It allows me to document that I’ve left him in your care voluntarily. Martha, since you have ID, I need your signature here. Linda, I’ll need yours later. And if there’s any paperwork, medical history, diagnoses, therapy reports, I expect it to be emailed to my office by the end of the week.” Linda nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. You’ll have it.” Kendra knelt down in front of Jim, who was once again suckling his pacifier with wide, anxious eyes. “James? You're going to go home now with your mommy and grandma, okay?” He gave a faint nod and held his arms out to Linda. She scooped him up, patting his padded bottom through the onesie and thanking Kendra profusely. As they exited the office, Kendra watched them for a long moment, then muttered to herself, “If that kid’s twelve, I’m the Queen of England…”