Emily sat quietly in the waiting room, the soft hum of the terminal buzzing in the background. She held her new ID card, the glossy surface cool against her fingers. Her green eyes scanned the bold print: Emily Verlain. The name felt foreign yet strangely fitting, and the connection to Welby was comforting and disconcerting.

Her heart pounded in her chest, though she kept her expression calm, her shoulders squared and her face stoic. She had to be strong—for Hannah. Her sister had been through so much, and Emily knew that her composure was a cornerstone of Hannah’s sense of safety. But beneath the surface, Emily’s nerves churned like a storm-tossed sea.

She turned the card over, her thumb brushing against the small inset photo of Welby. His familiar face brought a flicker of warmth to her chest, a reminder of his promises. He had assured her—repeatedly, fervently—that this time would be different. While she would still need to meet certain expectations, she would have more freedom and autonomy. More than anything else, that assurance convinced her to take this step.

Well, that—and Hannah.

Emily glanced at her sister, Hannah, sitting beside her. Hannah’s ID clasped tightly in her hands as she fidgeted nervously. Emily’s heart ached at the sight. For all her thoughtful resilience, Hannah had always been more vulnerable, more affected by the world’s cruelties. Emily couldn’t bear to let her face it alone.

Emily was doing this for her sister, her grip tightening on the card. She needed Emily. They needed each other.

But even as she repeated the mantra, the memories of their first trip to the Diaper Dimension clawed at the edges of her mind. The constant surveillance, the infantilizing routines, the humiliating lack of control—it had been suffocating. They had barely escaped the first time; their freedom wrested from a world that sought to strip them of it entirely. And now, they were willingly stepping back into that same world.

Emily’s stomach twisted at the thought, dread pooling heavily in her chest. She thought of the diapers, the bottles, the patronizing coos of Amazons who saw her as nothing more than a helpless child. The idea of returning to that life full-time filled her with a deep, gnawing dread.

But then she thought of Welby.

His letters, his messages, the earnestness in his voice when he had spoken to her about their return. He had promised her that this time would be different. He would protect and advocate for her and ensure she had the space and freedom she deserved. He had sworn to keep her dignity intact as much as the world could, and Emily wanted to believe him. No—she had to believe him.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing the edges of the card. Welby had been a source of stability and care during their first ordeal, a rare light in a world of shadows. Knowing he would be there waiting for them, seeing him again brought a bittersweet sense of comfort. He had made many promises, and though the past had shaken her trust, some of her still held on to hope.

This wasn’t just for her, Emily thought, her resolve firming. It was for him, too. And for her and Hannah.

She glanced at Hannah again, offering a small smile that she hoped looked reassuring. Hannah met her gaze and smiled back, her nervous energy palpable. They were in this together—always.

The crackle of the intercom announcing the next departure broke the waiting room’s quiet hum. Emily’s heart skipped a beat as she slid her ID back into her pocket, steeling herself for what came next. She pushed down the swirl of emotions bubbling in her chest and turned to Hannah, her sister, her baby girl—for now.

Emily stood, offering a hand to Hannah, a soft smile gracing her lips. This was the last time she would hold Hannah’s hand as her “Mommy.” The thought brought a bittersweet pang to her chest. The dynamic on Earth had been a necessity, born from Hannah’s vulnerability and shared trials. But there, in the Amazon world, their roles as siblings would take precedence. The Amazon world would never allow them to remain Mommy and baby. It wasn’t how things worked. As Littles, they would both be babies; a baby could certainly never hold the role of Mommy or Daddy.

Hannah looked up at Emily, her wide, thoughtful eyes meeting her sister’s. Her nervous energy faded as she reached out, taking Emily’s hand with a firm squeeze. “We’ve got this,” Hannah said softly, her voice steady.

Emily’s smile widened, her heart swelling with pride and protectiveness. “Yeah,” she replied, giving Hannah’s hand a reassuring squeeze in return. “We do.”

Together, they turned toward the terminal employee waiting nearby, clipboard in hand and a practiced smile on her face. “Hannah and Emily Verlain?” the woman asked, her tone efficient but polite.

“That’s us,” Emily replied, her voice calm and measured despite her heart pounding.

The employee nodded, motioning for them to follow. She led them through the terminal, weaving past clusters of travelers and rows of seats. The further they walked, the quieter the space became, the hum of the terminal fading into the distance.

Eventually, they reached a set of doors marked with a number corresponding to a different transfer room. The employee stopped before one, scanning her ID before turning to the girls.

“This is your room,” she said, her tone professional but warm. “Everything is set for your transfer. You’ll be stepping through together. It’s quick and seamless, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Emily nodded, though her grip on Hannah’s hand tightened slightly. “Thank you,” she said, her voice steady.

The employee smiled and stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “You can go in whenever you’re ready.”

Emily glanced at Hannah, searching her sister’s face for any sign of hesitation. But Hannah stood tall, her expression calm and determined. She squeezed Emily’s hand, reassuring her they were together.

Taking a deep breath, Emily pushed the door open, leading Hannah inside. The room was sterile and brightly lit, with sleek, metallic wall panels. In the center stood a circular platform, faintly glowing with a soft, pulsing light. The technology looked advanced, almost otherworldly—a stark contrast to the mundane terminal they had just left.

Emily and Hannah stepped onto the platform, their shoes clicking softly against the surface. The door hissed shut behind them, sealing them in. The room was silent except for the low hum of the transfer device.

Emily turned to Hannah, her voice soft but firm. “This is it.”

Hannah nodded, her fingers curling tightly around Emily’s. “I’m ready.”

Together, they stood side by side, their hands clasped. The platform’s glow brightened, enveloping them in warm light. Emily felt the familiar tug of the transfer, gently lifting her off her feet. Hand in hand, Emily and Hannah rocketed into the tunnel on a cushion of warm air and light. They had come this far, and there was no turning back now.

*

The rumble of the car engine filled the quiet as Welby drove toward the transfer station, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. The road ahead was smooth and familiar, but the journey felt anything but ordinary. His heart raced with anticipation, his mind flipping through a mental checklist as he double-checked everything he’d packed.

The diaper bag was stowed securely behind him, stocked with everything he might need for the girls’ arrival—diapers, wipes, bottles, pacifiers, even a few of their favorite snacks. The car seats were strapped in tightly, their colorful patterns cheerful yet practical. And, perhaps most importantly, the tracking bands were safely tucked into a side pocket of the bag. The very same bands that had saved both Emily and Hannah’s lives after they had been kidnapped.

Welby’s grip on the steering wheel tightened at the memory. The terror of those days still lingered, the sheer helplessness he’d felt when his girls had been taken. With every fiber of his being, he had vowed then that he would never let anything like that happen again. And this time, he had taken every precaution to ensure their safety.

But even with all his planning, Welby would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t nervous. His stomach churned with excitement and unease, his thoughts flicking between the challenges ahead and the joy of finally having his girls back.

Hannah and Emily, he thought, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. They were his lights, his joy, the heart of his life. They had brought him a happiness he hadn’t felt since his honeymoon—back when life had seemed simple and full of promise. But that promise had been shattered, and he had learned the hard way just how fragile happiness could be.

Welby’s jaw tightened as he thought of his ex. The betrayal, the manipulation, the way she had torn apart the life they had built together—it was a wound that had never fully healed. But if there was one thing he had gained from that experience, it was clarity. He had learned from his mistakes, and he would never let another woman—or anyone, for that matter—ruin his life or the lives of his girls again.

The station loomed into view, its sleek, modern design standing out against the otherwise unassuming landscape. Welby’s pulse quickened as he pulled into the lot, his hands steady despite the tremor of anticipation running through him. He parked the car, cutting the engine, and glanced into the rearview mirror at the car seats behind him.

The sight filled him with a bittersweet warmth. It was a simple thing, but the thought of his girls sitting there, chattering, laughing, or even bickering, brought a smile to his face. They had been through so much—more than anyone should ever endure—yet survived. They had thrived. And now, they were coming back to him.

Welby exhaled slowly, his nerves settling as he focused on the moment. He checked his watch—just a few minutes until their transfer. He reached for the diaper bag, double-checking its contents one last time. Everything was in place. He had prepared for every possibility, every contingency. Now, all that was left was to meet them.

The cool breeze brushed against his face as he exited the car, grounding him in the present. His nerves were still there, humming beneath the surface, but an overwhelming sense of joy overshadowed them. This was it, he thought. They were finally coming home.

Welby adjusted the diaper bag strap over his shoulder, his gaze fixed on the station doors. His heart swelled with resolve as he made his way inside. He had made mistakes in the past, but this time, he would get it right.

Welby stepped into the bustling transfer station, the hum of activity surrounding him as Amazons, Tweeners, and Littles moved through the sleek, modern space. The air buzzed with the faint hum of machinery and the soft murmur of conversations, but Welby barely noticed. His focus was on the large arrival board on the wall ahead.

As he approached, he adjusted the diaper bag strap on his shoulder, his pulse quickening with each step. The board was filled with names, each paired with a transfer number and arrival time. His eyes scanned the list, his breath catching as he searched for the only names that mattered.

And then, he saw them.

Hannah Verlain
Emily Verlain

Their names glow on the screen in bold, bright letters side by side: his girls, his family.

A wave of emotion crashed over Welby, his chest tightening as a giddy joy spread through him. He had known—logically, at least—that the girls had said they would come. He had read their letters, heard their voices in their calls, felt their sincerity. But part of him had never truly believed it until this moment. Seeing their names, bearing his last name, made it real in a way nothing else could.

Welby’s hand brushed against the strap of the diaper bag, his fingers tightening slightly as he tried to steady himself. The risks they were taking by coming back weren’t lost on him. He had replayed every possible scenario, weighing the dangers against the rewards. The Diaper Dimension was no kinder than it had been when they left, and the Amazon government was always watching, always waiting for an opportunity to exert control.

But they had come anyway. They had chosen him, chosen to step back into this world despite everything they had endured. That knowledge filled him with a profound sense of gratitude and responsibility. Welby swore to himself then and there that he would honor their trust and courage, doing everything he could to protect them.

He stood momentarily longer, staring at their names, letting the reality sink in. A soft, uncontainable laugh escaped him, his smile widening as the joy bubbled. They were coming back. His girls. His heart felt full to bursting, the excitement eclipsing the nerves that had 

been gnawing at him all morning.

“Soon,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Soon, they’ll be here.”

Welby turned away from the board, his steps lighter as he approached the designated arrival area. Each step brought him closer to the moment he had been waiting for when he would see their faces again. And when that moment came, he knew nothing else would matter.

*

The hum of the plane engines droned softly, a steady backdrop that lulled Ash into a light, restless sleep. Ash had been drifting on the edge of consciousness, her thoughts flickering between the life she was leaving behind and the one that awaited her in the city. But the subtle shuffle of movement beside her had stirred something in her—a sense of unease. Barely cracking one eye open, she watched Miss Kaylee rummaging through her oversized bag with intent.

When the Amazon’s hand emerged, it was holding a syringe.

Ash’s pulse quickened, but her body remained still, her breathing even and steady. Her mind raced, replaying every moment that had led up to this. She thought of Laura, the injections, the helplessness. Her body tensed beneath her calm façade, every instinct screaming for her to act—but not yet. She needed to see what Miss Kaylee was planning.

Miss Kaylee inspected the syringe carefully, tapping it lightly to remove any air bubbles. Her expression was calm, almost clinical, as she examined the needle. Ash’s stomach churned. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t normal.

The Amazon turned slightly in her seat, glancing toward Ash. Ash fought to keep her breathing slow and steady, her lashes fluttering faintly as though lost in sleep. Miss Kaylee hesitated momentarily, her gaze softening before she brushed a strand of Ash’s hair from her face.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Miss Kaylee whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. “This is for your own good.”

Ash’s blood ran cold. For her own good? The phrase echoed in her mind, conjuring a storm of memories she’d worked so hard to suppress. Her body remained motionless, her mind calculating. Not again. Never again.

Miss Kaylee leaned closer, the syringe now in her dominant hand, inching toward Ash’s exposed arm. Ash felt every nerve in her body coil like a spring, her muscles taut beneath her outward calm. She waited, every second stretching into eternity as Miss Kaylee drew nearer.

When the syringe was mere inches away, Ash struck.

Her hand shot out with lightning speed, grabbing Miss Kaylee’s wrist in an iron grip. The Amazon’s eyes widened in shock, her composure faltering as Ash twisted her wrist, forcing the syringe from her hand. The needle clattered softly onto the tray table, and in one fluid motion, Ash seized it.

“Ash, wait—” Miss Kaylee began, her voice sharp with alarm, but Ash didn’t hesitate.

With a precision born of desperation and survival, Ash plunged the syringe into Miss Kaylee’s thigh, pressing the plunger down before the Amazon could react. Miss Kaylee gasped, her body jerking slightly as the contents of the syringe entered her system.

Ash sprang back, the booster seat beneath her creaking as she pressed herself back against the window, clutching the now-empty syringe in her hand. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes blazing with fury and betrayal.

Miss Kaylee’s hands hovered over her thigh, her expression a mix of shock and something else—something softer. “Ash,” she said, her voice trembling. “It wasn’t… what you think.”

Ash glared at her, her chest heaving as adrenaline coursed through her. “Don’t lie to me,” she spat, her voice low but sharp enough to cut. “You were going to inject me. I heard you.”

Miss Kaylee’s expression crumpled, and she sank back into her seat, one hand resting limply on the armrest. “It’s not… like that,” she murmured, her voice growing faint as the effects of the injection began to take hold. “I was trying to help…”

Ash’s grip on the syringe tightened, her knuckles white. “Help? With that?” She shook her head, her voice laced with bitter disbelief. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. Not anymore.”

Miss Kaylee’s eyelids drooped, her head lolling slightly to the side as the sedative in the syringe took effect. “I… I just wanted… to protect you…” she slurred, her words trailing off as her body went limp.

Ash stared at her, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. Her hand trembled as she set the syringe on the tray table, and her mind was a whirlwind of emotions: fear, anger, relief, and betrayal.

Leaning against the window, Ash pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to steady herself. The hum of the engines seemed louder now, a deafening reminder of their isolation.

She glanced at Miss Kaylee, slumped peacefully in her seat, and felt a pang of guilt twist in her chest. Why would she do this? After everything we’ve been through? The question burned in her mind, but she pushed it aside. She didn’t have the answers yet.

Ash’s breathing slowed as the adrenaline began to ebb, but her reprieve was short-lived. A soft groan escaped Miss Kaylee’s lips, and Ash’s eyes snapped back to her. What she saw made her blood run cold.

Miss Kaylee’s body began to change.

At first, Ash thought she was imagining it, a trick of the dim cabin lighting and her frayed nerves. But the truth became undeniable as Miss Kaylee’s limbs seemed to retract, her frame visibly shrinking before Ash’s horrified gaze. Her clothes, once snug and tailored, began to loosen, pooling around her as her body diminished in size.

“No… no, no, no,” Ash whispered, her voice trembling as she pressed herself against the window, her hands gripping the edge of the seat. She watched in stunned silence as Miss Kaylee continued to shrink, her form rapidly dwindling until what remained was something Ash could scarcely comprehend.

There, nestled in a heap of fabric, lay Miss Kaylee—the once-commanding Amazon now reduced to the size of a baby. Her tiny body stirred faintly, soft whimpers escaping her lips as she shifted in the pile of her clothing.

Ash’s mind reeled, struggling to understand what she was seeing. What just happened? The question burned in her mind, but the answer became clear, making her stomach churn—the syringe. Whatever was in it hadn’t just sedated Miss Kaylee but regressed her. Ash stared at the infant form before her, her hands trembling as the enormity of the situation sank in.

And then, like a dam breaking, the horror of what Miss Kaylee had been planning struck her. Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as the realization washed over her. That syringe wasn’t for Miss Kaylee—it was for her.

“She was going to…” Ash couldn’t finish the thought, her voice trailing into a shaky whisper. The memories of Laura’s control came flooding back, vivid and unrelenting. The injections, the loss of her independence, and the feeling of being utterly powerless filled Ash with dread. It had all been leading to this moment, Miss Kaylee trying to strip her of everything she had rebuilt.

“No,” Ash growled, her voice low and fierce as she clenched her fists. “Never again.”

Her mind raced with questions. Why had Miss Kaylee done this? What had driven her to betray the trust they had rebuilt? Ash’s heart ached with a bitter mix of betrayal and anger, but beneath it all was a searing resolve. She wouldn’t let herself be manipulated, controlled, or infantilized—not by anyone, not ever again.

The infant Miss Kaylee stirred again, letting out a soft, helpless whimper that made Ash’s stomach twist. For all her anger, she couldn’t ignore the vulnerability before her. Miss Kaylee had been reduced to the very thing she had planned for Ash—a powerless infant stripped of her authority and autonomy.

Ash’s gaze lingered on the tiny form for a long moment, a storm of emotions swirling within her. Betrayal. Rage. Pity. But above all, a fierce determination burned bright in her chest. This was her life, and she would fight for it with everything she had.

Ash turned to the horizon beyond the window as the plane continued its journey. The city awaited her—a place of new beginnings, challenges, and opportunities. She would face it all on her terms. But first, she had to decide what to do with the Little Amazon sitting beside her.