Welby hummed softly as he stood in the nursery, carefully arranging the last few items on the changing table. The room was a cheerful mix of pastel blues, yellows, and greens, with whimsical animal murals painted along the walls. A plush rocking chair sat near the window, its cushions fluffed and inviting. Two cribs stood side by side, their bedding neatly tucked and adorned with soft, colorful blankets. Every detail had been planned meticulously, and now, with everything in place, Welby stepped back to admire his work.

He couldn’t help but grin, his excitement bubbling over. They were coming home. The thought thrilled him, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. Home. It felt surreal to think of it that way. Hannah and Emily had been through so much—they all had—and now they would finally be back.

Yet, beneath the giddiness, a shadow of concern lingered. Welby’s smile faltered as he glanced at the neatly arranged stack of diapers on a nearby shelf. The challenges of their return loomed large in his mind, not least of which was the precarious position they all found themselves in with the Amazon government.

The authorities circled for weeks, their suspicions growing as whispers of Welby’s true identity reached the higher-ups. They had pieced together his involvement with the Resistance and Hannah and Emily’s role. The Littles, who had fought so hard for freedom, were now marked, and their return to the Diaper Dimension hinged on a fragile agreement.

Welby’s jaw tightened as he recalled the knock at his door—the police, standing tall and imposing, demanding answers. The threat of jail time had been explicit, the accusations cutting deep. He had resisted at first, holding firm to his principles, but when Venli had contacted him with her calm reassurance, everything had changed.

“It’s okay, Welby,” Venli had said, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. “We’ve moved. They won’t find us. Tell them what they need to know. It’s the only way to keep you safe; after what you’ve done, it was worth the cost for us. Get yourself free; consider it payment for your services.”

And so he had done it. Sitting at the police station, under the glare of harsh fluorescent lights, Welby had laid it all out. He told them about the Resistance, his involvement, and the girls’ part. Every detail had been extracted, dissected, and recorded. By the time it was over, Welby had felt hollow, his chest tight with the weight of betrayal—not just of the Resistance, but of himself.

He had walked out of that station a free man, but the weight of the deal hung heavily over him. The government had granted him conditional freedom, with one overarching stipulation: Hannah and Emily had to return. They would be protected under strict government immunity and preserved as experimental subjects. In exchange, Welby would take full responsibility for them. He would become their legal guardian, ensuring their adherence to the Little Care Act and the new rules they would live under.

Welby had believed or perhaps wanted to believe that the arrangement was straightforward. The government claimed they only wanted to study the girls’ partial immunity to hypnotic messaging, a effect of the serum they’d received. Their research, they assured him, would be observational. The girls would be safe and sheltered from more invasive experiments. However, the unspoken threat had been crystal clear: if the girls failed to return, the government would turn their sights on him instead.

“They’re valuable, Welby,” one official had said, her tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “You’ve seen firsthand how the serum protects them. Imagine the breakthroughs we could achieve if we understand it fully. But we don’t need them to begin our tests. You’re a perfect alternative.”

Welby had no illusions about what that meant. If Hannah and Emily didn’t return, the government would subject him to their experimentation—his body, his mind, broken and remolded to suit their purposes. Refusal wasn’t an option, not if he wanted to survive.

And so, with a heavy heart, he had relayed the deal to the girls, fully prepared for their refusal. He wouldn’t have blamed them for wanting to stay safe on Earth, far from the Amazons and their oppressive grip. Yet, to his surprise, they had agreed.

“They’re going to study us, right?” Emily had asked quietly, her brow furrowed but her voice steady. “Not… do anything else?”

“That’s what they said,” Welby had replied, though even he couldn’t ignore the lingering doubt in his voice. “You’ll be protected, immune to punishment. They promised.”

Hannah had exchanged a look with her sister, and a silent conversation passed between them. Then she had nodded, her resolve firm. “We’ll go,” she said.

Welby had been stunned. “Are you sure? This isn’t—”

“We’re sure,” Emily interrupted. “We won’t let you face this alone, Welby. You’ve done too much for us already.”

The decision was made. They had chosen to return, placing their trust in him and the fragile promises of a system that had betrayed them once.

But as they prepared for the inevitable, they could not shake the feeling that there was more to this deal than what the government had revealed.

The memory sent a shiver down his spine, but Welby pushed it aside, focusing on the nursery instead. He adjusted a stuffed bear in one of the cribs, his touch lingering on its soft fur. The thought of having Hannah and Emily back filled him with a profound sense of purpose for all the challenges ahead. He would be their protector, their caregiver, their Daddy. And this time, he would do it right.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, his grin returning as he realized how close the hour was. Soon, the portal would open, and they would step back into his arms. His heart swelled with anticipation, and he couldn’t help but chuckle again, the sound echoing warmly through the room.

“They’re going to love this,” he murmured, his gaze sweeping across the nursery one last time. The challenges would come, but for now, all that mattered was that his girls were coming home.

Welby’s steps slowed as he left the nursery, his excitement dimming as he moved toward the living room. His stomach churned with unease, starkly contrasting with the giddy anticipation that had filled him moments before. Standing near the couch, her posture rigid and her gaze sharp, was the other half of the agreement that had secured Hannah and Emily’s return.

The woman was impeccably dressed, her tailored navy blazer and pencil skirt a testament to her professionalism. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek bun, and her sharp features gave her an air of unyielding authority. She stood with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable as she observed Welby with the cool detachment of someone accustomed to control.

This was Miranda Pierce, the Amazon government’s appointed overseer. She was their eyes and ears, tasked with monitoring every aspect of Welby’s life—and the lives of the two Littles he would soon be caring for. Her presence was a constant reminder of Welby's precarious position, her very existence a shadow looming over the hope he had fought so hard to hold onto.

“Mr. Welby,” she said, her voice smooth but clipped, as though every word had been measured and weighed. “I trust everything is ready for their arrival?”

Welby nodded stiffly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “The nursery is all set,” he said, his tone cautious. “Everything they’ll need is in place.”

Miranda’s gaze flicked toward the hallway to the nursery, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’ll be inspecting it shortly,” she said coolly. “Everything must meet the standards the Little Care Act set forth. I trust you’ve familiarized yourself with the guidelines?”

Welby’s stomach twisted. He had spent sleepless nights poring over the documents Miranda had provided, every line filled with rules and expectations that felt suffocatingly restrictive. The act left little room for nuance or individuality—it was a one-size-fits-all approach to Little Care, and Welby knew it would clash with the independent spirits of Hannah and Emily.

“I have,” he replied evenly, though the knot in his stomach tightened. “But you and I know that Hannah and Emily aren’t like most Littles.”

Miranda’s expression didn’t change, but her sharp eyes seemed to glint with something—challenge, perhaps, or warning. “That may be,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “But they will be treated as Littles while they are here. Your responsibility is to ensure their safety, well-being, and compliance with Amazon society’s expectations. Anything less will not be tolerated.”

Her words hung like a lead weight, and Welby clenched his jaw. He forced himself to remain calm, not to let his frustration show. Miranda wasn’t just here to oversee his care of the girls—she was here to report back to her superiors and watch for any sign of resistance activity. If the Resistance made contact, Miranda would know and act without hesitation.

“And,” Miranda added, her tone even colder, “should you fail to meet the standards, there will be consequences. For all three of you.”

Welby swallowed hard, his mind racing with the implications of her statement. He thought of the rules he would be expected to enforce—the diapers, the feedings, the infantilizing routines. The thought of subjecting Hannah and Emily to those standards made his stomach churn, but he had no choice. If he pushed back too hard, Miranda would have the leverage to take them away, to place them in the hands of someone who would show no regard for their unique circumstances.

“I understand,” Welby said quietly, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion.

Miranda nodded, her expression remaining impassive. “Good,” she said. “Then we’ll proceed as planned.”

As she turned away, her sharp heels clicking against the floor, Welby allowed himself a moment to exhale. His hands trembled faintly at his sides, and he clenched them into fists to steady himself. He glanced at the clock on the wall, the hands inching closer to the time the portal would open.

He could do this, he told himself, though the knot in his stomach remained. For Hannah. For Emily. The challenges ahead were daunting, but Welby’s resolve burned brighter than ever. He would protect his girls, no matter what it took—even under the watchful eye of Miranda Pierce.

*

The car pulled up to the curb outside the transit terminal, its engine humming as it settled into park. Hannah and Emily climbed out, their movements hurried but tinged with nervous energy. Each carried a bag on their back; the straps snug against their shoulders as they took a moment to steady themselves. The building ahead loomed large, its glass façade reflecting the soft morning light.

Hannah glanced at Emily, her heart racing as her gaze flicked to the imposing structure. “This is it,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emily nodded, her expression a mix of excitement and trepidation. “Yeah,” she said, her tone steadier than she felt. “This is happening.”

Their shoes clicked softly against the pavement as they approached the entrance. The automatic doors slid open with a faint whoosh to welcome them inside. The cool air of the terminal brushed against their skin, and both girls shivered slightly—not from the temperature but from the anticipation coursing through them.

The lobby was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of conversation and the distant hum of machinery. The receptionist’s desk stood at the far end of the room, a tall Amazon seated behind it. The woman looked up as they approached, her gaze shifting briefly to their paperwork before she offered a polite smile.

“Good morning,” she said smoothly. “Are you here for a scheduled transit?”

Hannah nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she placed her papers on the counter. “Yes,” she said, her voice wavering. “Hannah and Emily. We’re scheduled for the return trip.”

The receptionist scanned the documents, her expression calm and efficient as she tapped at her keyboard. Hannah glanced at Emily, her heart thudding in her chest as they waited. She shifted nervously, the faint crinkle of her diaper audible beneath her jeans. It was a sound she was used to, but here, in this place, it carried a weight that made her acutely aware of their situation.

Turning to Emily, Hannah managed a small, incredulous smile. “Can you believe it?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with awe. “We’re going back.”

Emily met Hannah's gaze, her expression mirroring her amazement. She adjusted the strap of her bag, the faint rustle of her clothing punctuated by the subtle crinkle of her diaper. “I know,” she replied, her voice filled with excitement and disbelief. “It feels… unreal.”

Hannah’s smile grew, a flicker of shared understanding passing between them. The journey they were about to embark on was daunting, but the fact that they were facing it together made it feel less overwhelming.

The receptionist’s voice broke through their moment. “Your paperwork looks to be in order,” she said, handing the documents back to Hannah. “You’ll be called shortly. Please take a seat in the waiting area until then.”

Hannah nodded, taking the papers with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she said, her voice steadier now.

Emily touched her arm lightly, steering her toward the waiting area. A few other travelers sat scattered among the rows of chairs. They found a pair of seats near the corner and set their bags down at their feet. The weight of their decision hung heavy in the air, but beneath it was a current of shared determination.

Hannah glanced at Emily again, her nervous energy still bubbling beneath the surface. “We’re doing this,” she said softly, more to herself than to her sister.

Emily reached over, giving Hannah’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We are,” she said firmly, her green eyes steady. “And we’ll do it together.”

Hannah nodded, her heart still racing but her resolve firming. They were returning to the challenges, risks, and the unknown. But they were also returning to each other, to the bonds they had forged in the fires of their shared trials. And for that, they were ready.

As they settled into their seats, Hannah fidgeted with the papers in her hands, her fingers brushing the crisp edges. The documents were all in order, stamped, and sealed with the authority of both Earth and the Amazon homeworld. She thumbed through them absently, her gaze catching on the new identification cards tucked neatly into the packet.

Her breath hitched slightly as she pulled one out, the glossy surface reflecting the terminal’s overhead lights. The ID was starkly different from the ones they had carried on Earth. These didn’t just mark them as individuals—they labeled them as Littles, officially under the care of an Amazon guardian. Her name, printed in bold letters, now bore Welby’s last name: Hannah Verlain.

Her fingers traced the lettering, her expression unreadable as she stared at it. Beneath her name, in smaller print, was Emily’s, with the same last name tying them together as a family. Welby’s photo was in the corner, his familiar, gentle face bringing a flicker of warmth to Hannah’s chest.

Her thumb lingered over the image, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Soon, she would be back in her Daddy’s arms. The thought filled her with a bittersweet mixture of emotions. She had always bristled at the infantilizing treatment of Littles in the Amazon world, yet Welby had made her feel safe, even cherished, in a way she hadn’t thought possible.

Hannah turned to Emily, holding up the ID. “Look at this,” she said quietly, her voice laced with awe and trepidation. “They’ve made it all so… official.”

Emily took her ID from the packet, her green eyes scanning the details with similar emotions. “Emily Verlain,” she read aloud, her tone contemplative. She glanced at Hannah, offering a small smile. “I guess that makes it real.”

Hannah nodded, her grip tightening on her ID. “It’s strange,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But… it feels right. Going back. Being with him.”

Emily’s expression softened, and she reached out, resting a hand on Hannah’s arm. “It does,” she said gently. “For all the craziness we’ve been through, he’s always been there for us. And now…” She gestured around them, her smile growing. “Now we get to be there for him too.”

Hannah returned the smile, though her heart still fluttered with nervous anticipation. She ran her thumb over Welby’s photo again, the familiarity of his face grounding her in the moment. Whatever challenges awaited them on the other side of the portal, she knew they wouldn’t face them alone.

*

Miss Kaylee’s gaze lingered on Ash as they walked side by side through the terminal, her heart heavy with unspoken sorrow. Ash moved with a determined stride, her expression stoic and guarded, but Miss Kaylee could see the cracks beneath the surface. She had seen it in the airport lounge when Ash froze at the sight of a Little being spanked, and she saw it now in the rigid set of her shoulders and the tension in her jaw.

The girl had been through so much—too much. The trauma Laura had inflicted on her ran deep, carving scars that no amount of time or distance seemed to heal. Miss Kaylee’s heart ached for her, the weight of Ash’s pain pressing heavily on her chest.

She wanted to do more, to be more. She had helped rescue Ash, Hannah, and Emily from Laura’s clutches and had fought tooth and nail to give them a chance at freedom. But the damage had already been done, and no matter how much Miss Kaylee wanted to fix it, Ash kept her at arm’s length, refusing to let anyone get too close, especially an Amazon.

Miss Kaylee thought that if she’d let her in, she could help the girl. She glanced at Ash, who walked just ahead of her, her posture stiff and her gaze fixed forward. Miss Kaylee admired the girl’s resilience deeply, but it was also a barrier that kept her walled off from those who cared for her.

Miss Kaylee’s fingers tightened slightly around the strap of her bag. Ash didn’t have to carry that burden alone. If only she could see that.

Her thoughts drifted back to the moment in the terminal when Ash had frozen, her expression distant and haunted as she watched the Little being disciplined. Miss Kaylee had seen the pain flash in Ash’s eyes, the way her breath hitched and her hands trembled. It was a familiar look, one Miss Kaylee had seen on countless Littles who had been through too much. But Ash wasn’t a Little—she was a Tweener, caught in a world that didn’t quite know how to define her. And the trauma she carried wasn’t something that could be soothed with soft words and gentle touches alone.

Miss Kaylee’s heart ached with the weight of her helplessness. She wanted to hold Ash close, to wrap her in her arms and shield her from the memories that haunted her. But Ash wouldn’t let her—not fully. And so, Miss Kaylee could only watch, offering support from a distance, hoping that one day Ash might trust her enough to let her in.

More than anything, Miss Kaylee wished she could erase the memories that plagued Ash. The thought stirred something deep within her—a desperate yearning to undo the damage Laura had done. The tools existed, after all—the technology to snip away memories, to erase the trauma like a bad dream. It would be so easy, so quick. One injection and Ash could finally have peace.

Miss Kaylee swallowed hard, her gaze shifting back to Ash. The girl’s steps were steady, her head held high, but the pain was still there, a silent shadow that clung to her like a second skin. Miss Kaylee wanted nothing more than to banish that shadow, to give Ash the life she deserved—a life without fear, pain, or Laura’s ghost haunting her every step.

But the choice wasn’t hers to make. Not really. And as much as her heart ached for Ash, Miss Kaylee knew that trust couldn’t be forced. Healing couldn’t be stolen—it had to be earned.

Miss Kaylee exhaled softly, her steps slowing as she fell a half-step behind Ash. She gave the girl the space she seemed to need, just wanting to help her, her chest tightening with emotion. 

The noise of the terminal buzzed around them, the world continuing as though nothing had happened. But in Miss Kaylee’s heart, the weight of Ash’s pain was a constant reminder of the fragility of healing—and the strength it took to carry on.

Miss Kaylee’s eyes lingered on Ash, watching her shoulders stiffen and her steps faltered. Ash’s eyes darted to the side, and Miss Kaylee followed her line of sight, her heart sinking at the sight before them.

In the waiting area, a Little lay sprawled on a changing mat, their diaper being changed by a towering Amazon. The scene was routine, drawing no more attention than someone tying their shoe. But for Ash, Miss Kaylee knew it was anything but ordinary.

She saw the flicker of tension in Ash’s frame, the way her hands gripped the strap of her bag tighter, her knuckles whitening with the strain. Even without words, Miss Kaylee could feel the storm brewing within the girl, the memories clawing to the surface. Ash flinched as the Little whimpered, the sound cutting through the airport’s din like a blade.

Miss Kaylee’s chest tightened. She hated this. She hated how the wounds Laura had inflicted on Ash could still bleed so easily. Ash was so strong, so determined to move forward, but she carried her pain like a weight on her back, always there, always dragging her down.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was.

Miss Kaylee stopped walking, letting Ash step ahead as she took a deep breath. Her mind churned with emotions, a mix of sorrow and resolve. She couldn’t stand by and watch Ash suffer like this—not when she had the power to help.

Her gaze drifted to the bag at her side, her fingers brushing against the strap. Inside was the solution—the syringe that could undo the pain and strip away the memories that haunted Ash. It was controversial, yes, and perhaps Ash would never forgive her. But Miss Kaylee wasn’t doing this to be loved or even liked. She was doing it because Ash deserved a chance to escape this agony.

Sometimes, Miss Kaylee thought, her jaw tightening, people hurt too much to know what they truly need.

She turned her eyes back to Ash, her heart aching as she watched the girl square her shoulders and push forward, as if sheer will alone could shield her from the ghosts of her past. Miss Kaylee admired her strength, but she couldn’t ignore the cracks in the armor—the way Ash flinched, her breath hitched, and her eyes clouded with memories too painful to bear.

Miss Kaylee’s resolve hardened. Ash didn’t have to carry this anymore. She didn’t have to live in fear of her mind. Miss Kaylee would give her what she needed, even if Ash didn’t understand it. She would soothe that trauma, erase those memories, and replace them with ones that brought peace and happiness. She would show Ash what it felt like to be safe, cherished, and loved without the specter of pain lurking in the shadows.

It wouldn’t be easy. Ash would resist—Miss Kaylee was certain of that. But the result would be worth it. Ash would have the chance to heal, grow, and reclaim her life without the weight of her past dragging her down.

Miss Kaylee took a steadying breath, her hand brushing the edge of the bag again as her heart steadied with determination. She would give Ash a life worth living, even if she hated Miss Kaylee and didn’t understand now. One day, the girl would thank her.

The sound of Ash’s footsteps brought Miss Kaylee back to the present. She straightened, falling back into step beside her, her expression calm but her mindset.

This wasn’t about control or power. It was about love—the kind of love that saw beyond resistance and anger and did what was necessary, even when it wasn’t easy.

Ash glanced at her briefly, her expression guarded but determined. Miss Kaylee offered a reassuring smile, her heart aching with a tenderness she couldn’t quite express.

“I’m here,” she said softly, her voice steady. “No matter what.”