The soft glow of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing the cozy living room in warm hues. Emily sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, cradling Hannah against her chest. The rhythmic sound of formula gently bubbling through the bottle’s nipple was the only thing breaking the peaceful silence.

Hannah, her delicate features relaxed, nursed contentedly. Her short, light brown hair curled slightly at the ends, framing her soft, babyish face. She wore a pastel pink romper with puffed sleeves and a lace-trimmed Peter Pan collar. The fabric stretched just enough to hint at the bulky diaper beneath, its distinct crinkle occasionally audible with her small movements. The diaper sagged slightly, visibly swollen from the night, its thickness forcing her legs apart in a telltale waddle when she shifted against Emily’s lap.

Emily’s auburn hair was tied back in a high ponytail, strands framing her face with a casual elegance. Her outfit was equally playful but had a subtle touch of authority—her pale yellow dress had puffed sleeves and a flouncy skirt, its hem embroidered with delicate daisies. Beneath it, her diaper was only mildly wet, the faint scent of baby powder lingering as she sat poised and in control.

Emily's free hand rested lightly on Hannah’s back, her fingers tracing small, soothing circles over the soft fabric of her romper. Her green eyes sparkled with affection, and her expression was a mix of maternal care and quiet reflection.

As she watched Hannah nurse, Emily’s thoughts drifted to the bond they had forged. They weren’t sisters by blood, but their trials in the Diaper Dimension had knit their lives irrevocably together. Those trials had stripped them of much but had also given them each other. In those moments of fear, humiliation, and defiance, they had become more than sisters; they had become a sanctuary for one another.

“You’re such a good girl,” Emily murmured, her voice tender as she tilted the bottle slightly to ensure Hannah didn’t gulp too quickly. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to her forehead, the lavender scent of Hannah’s baby shampoo mingling with the faint sweetness of the formula.

Hannah opened her eyes briefly, a flicker of bashful gratitude crossing her features before she relaxed again, lulled by the moment's warmth. Though their lives had shifted in unimaginable ways, here in the privacy of Hannah’s home, their bond remained unshakably strong—a bond that transcended any traditional definition of sisterhood.

The soft, rhythmic suckling finally slowed, and Hannah released the bottle's nipple with a smooth, sleepy sigh. Emily pulled the now-empty bottle away and set it aside before gently shifting Hannah into an upright position against her shoulder. Hannah squirmed slightly, her thick, wet diaper crinkling as Emily’s arm supported her lower back.

“Let’s get that little tummy settled,” Emily cooed, her tone lighthearted and affectionate as she patted Hannah’s back with practiced ease. The firm, rhythmic pats filled the room, mingling with the faint rustle of Hannah’s romper.

Hannah, cheeks flushed pink from both the formula and the moment, rested her head against Emily’s shoulder, her breath warm against Emily’s neck. After a few moments, a small burp escaped her, making Emily chuckle.

“There we go, good girl,” Emily said softly, running her hand over Hannah’s back in soothing circles. She pressed her cheek against Hannah’s hair, savoring their closeness.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Hannah murmured, her voice quiet and full of affection. Her words made Emily pause for a heartbeat before a warm smile spread across her face.

“You’re welcome, baby girl,” Emily replied, her voice tender, though the title still felt surreal every time Hannah said it. It was a role she had stepped into by necessity but had grown to cherish more than she ever imagined.

As she shifted Hannah back into her lap and cradled her again, Emily’s thoughts wandered to the winding road that had brought them here. “You know,” she said softly, her green eyes distant, “we’ve come a long way.”

Hannah nodded slightly, the pacifier dangling from its leash, now bobbing lazily in her mouth. She stared up at Emily, her gaze soft but tinged with a shadow of their trials.

The memory of the exit exam hung heavy between them. It had been their final chance to escape the Diaper Dimension, a test designed to weed out those deemed “unfit” to rejoin society. Hannah had tried her best, but the impossible demands, coupled with the psychological toll of their captivity, had sealed her fate. She had failed, branded as nothing more than a helpless Little, failing even the most basic of potty training tests. Not that Emily blamed her; they had been stripped of all semblance of control only days prior.

Emily’s jaw tightened at the thought. Only a loophole in the legal system—a last-minute appeal and clever maneuvering—had allowed her to claim Hannah as her baby. By doing so, she had bypassed the exit exam’s consequences and secured their return to Earth.

“You saved me,” Hannah said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked up at Emily with wide, trusting eyes.

Emily shook her head gently. “We saved each other,” she corrected, a small smile curving her lips. She brushed a stray strand of hair from Hannah’s face, her touch tender. “I may have gotten us home, but you were the reason I fought so hard in the first place.”

Hannah smiled, nuzzling into Emily. The warmth of the room and the quiet sound of their breaths mingling made the world outside fade away. For now, they were safe, and that was all that mattered. The moment's warmth lingered between them, but Emily’s composure faltered slightly as she shifted uncomfortably. A faint gurgle from her stomach broke the silence, and her cheeks tinged pink. She glanced down at Hannah, who lay cradled in her lap, completely at ease.

Hannah’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the slight tension in Emily’s posture. “Something wrong, Mommy?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with knowing curiosity.

Emily hesitated, trying to mask her discomfort. “It’s nothing,” she replied, attempting to sound nonchalant as another soft gurgle betrayed her. Her fingers traced absent patterns on Hannah’s back, more to distract herself than anything.

Hannah, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she leaned back to look at Emily. “You have to go, don’t you?” she asked, her tone matter-of-fact.

Emily’s blush deepened, and she looked away, embarrassed. “I’m fine,” she said firmly, though the growing pressure in her belly suggested otherwise.

“Emily,” Hannah said, her tone shifting to gentle but playful authority. “You know you’re back in diapers for a reason. If we’re going to be ready to go back to the Diaper Dimension, you need to practice now. Better here, where you can get used to it, than when it’s forced on you later.”

Emily’s mouth opened, a protest forming on her lips, but she knew Hannah was right. Her role in the Diaper Dimension had been as much about survival as it had been about strategy. She willingly stepped into the same world of treatment to protect Hannah. Now, back on Earth, she was supposed to be practicing for their return—but that didn’t make the prospect any less humiliating.

“I… I know,” Emily murmured, her voice barely audible. Her cheeks flared bright red as she glanced at the carpet, unable to meet Hannah’s gaze. The weight of her sister’s words settled heavily, and with a resigned sigh, she shifted slightly, lifting her bum off the floor to make room.

Her breath caught as the inevitable began. The warm, heavy mess started to push out, pressing firmly against the seat of her diaper before giving way. Emily closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip as her body betrayed her. The warmth spread as her diaper swelled to accommodate the bulk. She could feel the elastic leg bands stretch slightly, the padding bulging beneath her, crinkling faintly as it expanded to contain her mess.

The sensation was mortifying. The diaper pressed back against her, hugging her skin in ways she couldn’t ignore, and the faint, telltale smell began to fill the room. Her face burned with humiliation, the reality of her situation sinking in. She was a grown woman, sitting on the floor, helplessly filling her diaper like a child.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but Emily fought them back, unwilling to break in front of Hannah. She tried to steady her breathing; her hands clenched tightly against her thighs as she focused on anything but the sticky warmth spreading across her bottom.

“There… it’s done,” Emily whispered shakily, her voice trembling as she finally relaxed, her body sagging with relief and resignation.

Hannah, ever the comforter, rested a hand on Emily’s arm. “See? It’s not so bad,” she said softly, her voice laced with sympathy and a touch of humor. “You’re still my Mommy.”

Emily’s lips trembled as she finally met Hannah’s gaze. The sheer kindness and understanding in her sister’s eyes made her embarrassment easier to bear. “Thanks, baby girl,” she managed, her voice shaking slightly as she attempted a weak smile.

Hannah snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around Emily in a gesture of comfort. “We’re in this together,” she whispered, her words a quiet promise.

Emily exhaled, her tension easing as she relaxed into the embrace. Their bond—forged in trials and love—remained unbreakable even in such moments.

The humiliation of the moment lingered as Emily shifted slightly, her cheeks burning hotter when the mess in her diaper squished against her. The faint odor was unavoidable, wafting through the room and amplifying her embarrassment. She let out a small sigh, the corner of her mouth twitching in wry frustration.

“I miss the Diaper Dimension diapers,” Emily muttered under her breath, her green eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. “At least those didn’t smell.”

Hannah smirked lightly, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement and understanding. “Well, you won’t have to wait too much longer,” she teased gently, reaching for Emily’s hands. “Now, come on, Mommy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Emily hesitated momentarily before relenting, allowing Hannah to guide her onto the plush carpet. Lying flat, she stared at the ceiling as Hannah gathered the supplies. The sound of the diaper bag opening and the rustling of wipes filled the room, grounding Emily in the moment.

Hannah worked with quiet focus, unfastening the tapes of Emily’s diaper. Despite the roles they’d fallen into, her touch was gentle and careful, devoid of mockery. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she peeled the diaper back, though she said nothing.

“You know,” Hannah began softly as she reached for a wipe, her tone reflective, “we don’t have to go back. We could stay here. We’re safe now.”

Emily sighed, her expression softening as she looked up at Hannah. “We both know that’s not true,” she replied, her voice steady despite her vulnerable position.

Since their escape, the girls had relied on Welby’s updates to stay informed about the growing danger in the Diaper Dimension. His messages gave them insight into the Amazon government’s relentless tightening of control over Littles. They had learned about new regulations under the Little Care Act, the alarming crackdown on any semblance of resistance. But then, one day, the messages stopped.

Days stretched into weeks, and the silence became unbearable. Hannah and Emily feared the worst—imagining Welby captured, regressed, or dead. The thought left a hollow ache in their chests. Welby had been more than a protector to them; he was family. When his familiar encryption finally came through after the agonizing silence, it felt like a miracle. But the relief was short-lived.

The message was bleak: the Amazon government had found him. “I’ve bought myself some time,” he had written, his words carrying a weight that chilled them both. “They’re closing in. They know about the serum.”

The serum was the cornerstone of their survival. It was what had kept Hannah and Emily from succumbing fully to the government’s hypnotic programming, a shield that made them unique and valuable in ways they didn’t want to be. The Amazons hadn’t known it existed—until now. The discovery had sparked a desperate hunt to understand and replicate its effects. The government wasn’t just interested in controlling Littles; they wanted to refine their methods to ensure no Little could ever resist their will again.

But there was more. Welby revealed that the government’s interest wasn’t solely in the serum itself but in the girls. “You’re the key,” he had said. “They want to understand how it works in practice.”

Welby had tried to shield them, but his position had grown precarious. “If you don’t return,” he explained, “they’ll turn their attention to me. They’ll strip me of everything and turn me into their experiment. They’ll dissect every memory and thought until there’s nothing left of who I was.”

The girls were faced with an impossible choice. Stay safe and risk losing the one person who had risked everything for them, or return to the heart of the enemy’s world to protect him—and potentially countless other Littles. The Amazons had dangled a twisted lifeline: if they returned willingly, they’d be granted immunity and protection under the pretense of scientific cooperation.

But at what cost? Protection and immunity from what? Their wording had been intentionally vague, leaving the girls feeling uneasy.

“We’ve been talking to Welby for weeks now. He needs us, Hannah. And…” She hesitated, her gaze flicking away for a moment. “I can’t just leave you to face going back alone.”

Hannah paused, her hands stilling as she worked. Her brown eyes searched Emily’s face, a mix of gratitude and worry flashing across her features. “You’re doing this for me,” she said softly, almost to herself.

“And for Welby,” Emily added, her lips curving into a faint smile. “He’s still fighting, even after everything. We owe him that much.”

The mention of Welby brought a small, wistful smile to Hannah’s face.

Hannah nodded slowly as she resumed her work, carefully wiping Emily clean and applying a fresh layer of powder. “I know you’re right,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “But it still scares me. What if this time, we don’t get out?”

Emily reached down, resting a hand on Hannah’s arm. “We will,” she said firmly, her green eyes meeting Hannah’s. “We have each other, and we have Welby. We’ll find a way, and this time, we will cooperate with the Amazon Government.”

The room fell quiet save for the crinkle of the new diaper pulled snugly around Emily’s waist. Hannah fastened the tapes with practiced ease before sitting back on her heels, her gaze lingering on Emily with a mix of concern and admiration. Without a word, she popped her pacifier into her mouth, the quiet sucking a comfort as she processed their conversation.

“We’ve got this,” Emily said, sitting up and offering Hannah a reassuring smile. “We always do.”

Hannah nodded, her confidence bolstered by Emily’s resolve. Together, they were stronger than the challenges they’d faced—and stronger than the ones still ahead.

With a fresh diaper snug around her waist, Emily sat up, smoothing the skirt of her pale yellow dress. The relief of being clean again was a welcome reprieve, though the lingering embarrassment of her earlier accident still simmered beneath the surface. She glanced at Hannah, who had already begun settling herself onto the carpet in Emily’s place, her movements light and carefree.

“Your turn, baby girl,” Emily said, her tone playfully maternal as she reached for the supplies. She knelt beside Hannah, who shifted onto her back with an easy smile. Her pacifier gently bobbed between her lips.

Hannah’s soft brown hair splayed against the carpet, and her pastel pink romper rode up slightly, exposing the thick, soaked diaper beneath. Unlike Emily’s earlier state, Hannah’s diaper was only wet, though it had swelled enough to crinkle noticeably with her movements. Her cheeks flushed faintly, not with embarrassment, but with a quiet contentment.

Hannah didn’t truly need diapers—not in the way they had come to during their time in the Diaper Dimension. She still had full control, and returning to Earth restored her freedom to choose. But despite that freedom, Hannah hadn’t bothered with real underwear since they’d returned. Diapers had become part of her now, a source of comfort and security, and she wore them willingly, even eagerly.

On the other hand, Emily had a more complicated relationship with them. Since returning, she had worn diapers on and off, balancing the practicality of preparing for their inevitable return with the lingering unease it brought her. It was a constant reminder of their time in the Diaper Dimension—a reminder she both hated and reluctantly accepted.

Hannah looked up at Emily, her eyes bright as she sucked softly on her pacifier. There was no shame in her expression, only trust. Emily couldn’t help but smile, her embarrassment easing as she leaned over to unfasten Hannah’s diaper.

“You’re lucky you don’t have to worry about accidents,” Emily teased lightly, peeling back the front of the diaper and folding it neatly to the side. “You just enjoy the ride, huh?”

Hannah giggled softly behind her pacifier, nodding. She popped it out briefly to reply, her tone lighthearted. “What’s the point of pretending otherwise? They’re comfy, and I like them.”

Emily chuckled, wiping Hannah with a practiced hand. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that logic.” She worked methodically, discarding the damp diaper and replacing it with a fresh one, the scent of baby powder filling the room as she sprinkled it generously.

As Emily snugged the new diaper and secured the tapes, she reflected on how easily they had fallen into these roles since returning. Despite their differences, they shared an unspoken understanding—a bond forged in the crucible of their shared experiences.

“There you go, all set,” Emily said warmly, lightly patting the front of Hannah’s diaper. She helped her sit up, and the soft crinkle of her fresh diaper was audible as Hannah settled back into place.

Hannah tucked her pacifier back into her mouth, grinning at Emily around the shield. “Thanks, Mommy.”

Emily smiled, her heart swelling at the term. “You’re welcome, baby girl,” she replied softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from Hannah’s face. For all the strangeness of their situation, these moments reminded Emily of why she was willing to do whatever it took to keep Hannah safe—and why they would face whatever lay ahead together.

With both girls freshly changed, the room felt lighter, though the weight of the day ahead lingered in the air. Emily stretched her arms over her head, the faint crinkle of her diaper audible beneath the soft rustle of her dress. She glanced at Hannah, who was smoothing down the hem of her pink romper, her pacifier dangling from a clip pinned to the lace-trimmed collar.

“We should probably get dressed,” Emily said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Can’t exactly show up at the transit building like this.”

Hannah giggled softly, her cheeks dimpling as she nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think ‘baby chic’ is the vibe we’re going for, at least, not yet,” she teased, making Emily smirk.

The two of them moved to Hannah’s cozy bedroom, which reflected her thoughtful and reserved nature. The air carried a faint lavender scent, and soft pastel tones painted a calming backdrop. Hannah rummaged through the closet first, pulling out a pair of dark jeans and a fitted teal sweater. Though simple, the mature outfit highlighted her slim frame while maintaining a practical elegance.

Emily followed, selecting black leggings and a flowy burgundy tunic that fell just past her hips. She paused briefly, adjusting her outfit to hide the diaper’s waistband. Though she had become adept at dressing discreetly, there was always a flicker of unease when venturing out in public.

As they dressed, the atmosphere shifted. The playful banter gave way to a quieter, more introspective mood. Both girls’ minds wandered to the journey ahead—their imminent return to the Diaper Dimension. Emily tugged her tunic into place, smoothing it over her hips as her thoughts churned.

Welby had been their anchor in the weeks since their escape. His messages were filled with plans, promises, and reassurance that he controlled everything. But returning still felt like stepping into a storm. For all of Welby’s assurances, the Diaper Dimension was dangerous—a place where safety was tenuous and freedom an illusion.

Hannah sat on the edge of the bed, lacing her sneakers with deliberate care. Her brow furrowed slightly, her usual calm demeanor tinged with unease. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of returning filled her with trepidation and excitement. Welby had dangled tantalizing possibilities in front of them—adventures, alliances, and a chance to make a difference. Despite her fears, exploring those possibilities stirred something restless in her.

“We’ve come so far,” Hannah said softly, breaking the silence. She looked up at Emily, her brown eyes thoughtful. “It’s strange. Feeling scared and excited at the same time?”

Emily nodded, slipping her feet into a pair of boots. “Yeah,” she admitted, her green eyes meeting Hannah’s. “It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff. You know it’s dangerous, but part of you still wants to jump.”

Hannah smiled faintly, her expression a mix of understanding and resolve. “At least we’re doing it together.”

Emily walked over, resting a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Always,” she said firmly. The warmth of her touch and the certainty in her voice steadied them both.

They made their way to the door with packed bags and outfits in place. The chill of anticipation filled the air as they stepped outside, the cool morning breeze brushing against their cheeks. The journey to the transit building loomed ahead, and with it came the start of a new chapter. Unease and excitement warred within them, but for now, they focused on the steps before them, preparing for whatever the Diaper Dimension had in store.

*

The bustling noise of the airport filled Ash’s ears as she walked alongside Miss Kaylee, their pace unhurried but purposeful. Travelers hurried past, their luggage wheels clattering against the tiled floors, the voices of announcements echoing over the intercom. The environment was overwhelming, but Ash had grown used to it. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, her eyes darting around, ever-watchful.

Ash stood just a head taller than most Littles, her Tweener frame placing her in an awkward in-between. She wasn’t small enough to be seen as a Little, but her size paled compared to the towering Amazons who dominated this world. Even Miss Kaylee, walking calmly beside her, dwarfed Ash with her height and confident stride.

Miss Kaylee was an Amazon through and through, with long legs that moved gracefully beneath her tailored slacks and a natural air of authority. But she wasn’t like the others—at least, not entirely. Miss Kaylee had been part of the rescue effort that freed Ash, Hannah, and Emily from Laura’s clutches. Laura’s name alone sent a chill down Ash’s spine, memories of her time under the cruel Amazon’s control flashing through her mind.

Laura, along with other Amazons, had been relentless, stripping Ash of her autonomy and shrinking her to the size of a Little. For months, Ash had been trapped, treated like an infant, and subjected to every humiliation imaginable. She had thought there was no escape, no hope—until Miss Kaylee stepped in.

Even now, walking beside Miss Kaylee, Ash felt a complicated mix of emotions. Gratitude, certainly. Miss Kaylee had risked a great deal to help her. But there was also unease. Miss Kaylee was still an Amazon, a part of the world that had nearly destroyed Ash. And while she had shown kindness since the rescue, Ash couldn’t fully silence the small voice in her mind that whispered caution.

Miss Kaylee slowed as they approached their gate, glancing down at Ash with a warm smile. “Are you Doing okay?” she asked, her voice calm and gentle.

Ash nodded, though her grip on her bag tightened. “Yeah,” she replied, her tone clipped but not unfriendly. “Just… a lot of noise.”

Miss Kaylee chuckled softly, her eyes scanning the crowded terminal. “It always is,” she said. “But we’ll be in the air soon enough. Then you can relax.”

Relaxing was easier said than done, Ash thought. She was on her way to a new life in the big city, a fresh start that promised freedom and opportunity. But the shadows of her past lingered, and the weight of what she had endured pressed heavily on her shoulders.

Still, she tried to focus on the positives. Miss Kaylee had supported her every step of the way, helping her secure a position running a daycare and finding an apartment above the facility. It was a chance to rebuild and reclaim her independence, and Ash was grateful.

But even as she walked beside Miss Kaylee, her pace steady and head held high, Ash couldn’t shake the feeling that the scars Laura had left on her heart and mind would take much longer to heal.

As Ash and Miss Kaylee continued through the terminal, a sudden commotion caught Ash’s attention. Ahead of them, near a cluster of seats, an Amazon had pulled a struggling Little across her lap. The Little’s cries echoed through the crowded space, drawing a few passing glances but little concern. The Amazon’s hand came down with a sharp smack, reverberating in Ash’s ears and freezing her in place.

Her breath caught, her body stiffening as her mind lurched backward, dragging her into memories she’d fought so hard to suppress.

She wasn’t at the airport anymore. She was in Laura’s nursery.

The room was suffocatingly pink, and every surface was designed to strip away any semblance of adulthood: the oversized crib with its high, imprisoning bars, the changing table stocked with diapers she had no say in wearing, and Laura herself—towering, cruel, and unrelenting.

Ash could feel it again, the searing pain of a hand striking her diapered bottom, the humiliation amplified by Laura’s mocking voice. “Good Littles learn their lessons,” Laura had cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. “You’ll get there eventually, sweetheart.”

The helplessness had been overwhelming, her protests ignored, her autonomy stolen. She had cried, not just from the physical pain but from the crushing realization that no one was coming to save her. The memory was vivid, sharp, stabbing at her like a dagger.

In the present, Ash’s breathing grew rapidly, her chest tightening as she stared at the scene before her. The Little’s cries blended with the phantom echoes of her own, and her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to look away, to shut it all out, but she couldn’t. She was frozen, caught between the present and the horrors of her past.

“Ash?” Miss Kaylee’s voice cut through the haze, soft but insistent. She had stopped walking, her tall frame turning to face Ash with concern etched into her features. “Are you okay?”

Ash blinked rapidly, her surroundings snapping back into focus. The spanking was over, the Amazon now scolding the Little, who stood sniffling and red-faced beside her. The other travelers moved on, uninterested, as though nothing unusual had happened.

“I…” Ash’s voice wavered, her throat dry. She tore her gaze away from the scene, looking down at her feet as she tried to steady her breathing. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Miss Kaylee didn’t look convinced. She crouched slightly, her height making the gesture seem almost comical, and placed a gentle hand on Ash’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be fine,” she said softly. “That wasn’t easy to see. I understand.”

Ash flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to regain control. “It’s just… it reminded me,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “Of… her. Of everything she did.”

Miss Kaylee’s expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice earnest. “You didn’t deserve any of that, Ash. None of you did.”

Ash nodded faintly, though the words did little to ease the storm inside her. “I know,” she said, her voice tight. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it happened.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the noise of the terminal buzzing around them. Miss Kaylee’s hand remained on Ash’s shoulder, steady and grounding. Slowly, Ash took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the present, on the here and now. The memories were powerful, but they didn’t define her. Not anymore.

“Let’s just… keep going,” Ash said, her voice steadier. She straightened, brushing a hand across her eyes to wipe away the unshed tears. “We’ve got a plane to catch.”

Miss Kaylee hesitated, her gaze lingering on Ash with a mix of concern and respect. “Okay,” she said softly. “But if you need to talk, I’m here.”

Ash gave a small nod, though she didn’t reply. Instead, she adjusted the strap of her bag and began walking again, her steps measured but firm. The ghosts of her past still lingered, but they wouldn’t control her. Not this time.