"Let me go!"

Ash cried out, her voice sharp, desperate, panic thrumming through every nerve in her body.

The Nanny Bot ignored her.

Effortlessly.

"Release me!" Ash squirmed, struggling, trying to twist her body free, but the bot was too strong, too precise, too programmed to care about her protests.

Instead—

"Shhh, little one," the bot chided, its voice calm, soothing monotone as if she were nothing more than a fussy, over-tired baby.

Ash yelped as she was lowered onto the changing table, her back pressing against the soft, cushioned surface, the crinkling of her soaked diaper deafening in her ears.

Then—

The straps clicked into place.

Her wrists.

Her waist.

Her legs.

Secured.

Locked down.

Completely helpless.

"No—" Ash strained, pulling against the restraints, writhing in place, her cheeks flaring hot, her humiliation unbearable as the bot simply carried on, adjusting her position with mechanical ease.

"Release me this instant!" she demanded, her voice shaking, her chest heaving as she fought against the panic threatening to consume her.

The bot beeped.

"Fussy babies must be quiet during changing times," it informed her smoothly.

Then—

Ash barely had time to gasp before something was pressed against her lips.

Something firm.

Something smooth.

Something rubber.

A pacifier.

"Mmmph—!"

She tried to spit it out, shake it off, but before she could—

A soft click.

It locked into place.

Ash’s eyes widened in horror, her breath coming in sharp, panicked bursts, her muffled cries now nothing but humiliating, muffled whimpers.

The bot continued unfazed, its arms moving with precise, clinical efficiency as it went about changing her diaper.

Un-taping.

Wiping.

Powdering.

Re-sealing her into yet another thick, humiliating, inescapable diaper.

Ash’s vision blurred with tears, her body trembling, the pacifier muffling her desperate cries as she realized—

She was being changed like a baby.

In front of everyone.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The Nanny Bot beeped, its task completed. Its movements were efficient and clinical, unbothered by the utter humiliation it had just inflicted.

Ash’s breath hitched, her cheeks still burning, her pulse roaring in her ears—but then, just as the bot was about to set her down, something flashed on its screen.

A log update.

A recording.

She barely caught it—just a glimpse, a split-second of text—but what she did see made her blood run cold.

Her diaper change had been recorded.

The contents of her diaper were logged.

Her accident.

Her orgasm.

And then—

A line of text she didn’t quite understand.

Something about targeted hypnosis.

Something about the recorded response to stimuli.

Wait—

Before she could process it before she could even begin to comprehend what it meant—

The bot plopped her unceremoniously onto her padded bum, its work finished, before scurrying off to tend to another Little.

Ash sat there, dazed, confused, horrified.

Had…

Had someone tampered with the cartoons?

Had someone targeted her?

Her head spun, panic clawing its way back up her throat as she tried to piece it together—

"Ash."

Mira was there in an instant.

Ash barely had time to flinch before Mira sighed, reaching down and unlocking the pacifier gag, pulling it from Ash’s lips.

The moment it was gone, Ash gasped for air, swallowing back a choked sob, her humiliation suffocating her.

But Mira was already helping her up, her grip firm but casual, as if this was just another routine part of the day.

"Ash," she sighed again, shaking her head.

"You really should know better than to talk back to the Nanny Bot."

Ash stiffened, her face still red-hot, but Mira wasn’t angry—just exasperated as if she was dealing with a stubborn, misbehaving child.

"What were you thinking?" Mira chastised, brushing off some imaginary dust from Ash’s shoulder before adjusting the hem of her shirt.

Ash’s stomach twisted violently.

She could barely hear Mira over the deafening whirlwind of questions racing through her mind.

What was going on?

Who was behind this?

And more importantly—

What were they planning to do with her next?

Ash’s cheeks burned, her face hot with humiliation as she glanced around, desperate to see who had noticed.

Had the Littles seen?

Had they watched her get changed like one of them?

Had they seen her nursing a pacifier like a helpless baby?

Her stomach twisted as her eyes darted from face to face—

But most of the Littles were still groggy, blinking sluggishly, still caught in the fog of hypnosis, barely aware of their surroundings, let alone what had just happened to her.

A small relief.

But the Assistants?

That was another story.

They had seen.

Every.

Single.

One.

Mira’s hand found Ash’s wrist, firm, unyielding, pulling her to the side of the room before she could fully recover.

Ash stumbled, still off-balance, her mind still reeling, her diaper still thick and warm between her legs, a constant reminder of what had just happened.

Then—

Mira’s hands went to her hips, her expression hardening, her voice dropping into a serious, no-nonsense tone.

"Alright, Ash."

Ash’s stomach dropped.

Mira was staring down at her.

Really staring.

Not like a concerned coworker.

Not like a friend.

Like a caretaker reprimanding a child.

"What exactly were you doing out there?" Mira asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her tone was stern and authoritative.

Ash’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening.

"W-what?"

"With the Littles," Mira continued, crossing her arms. "Why were you still in the cartoon circle?"

Ash’s face flushed deeper, a wave of panic crawling up her spine.

*"I—" she stammered, trying to think, trying to come up with anything—

"Why didn’t you leave when the show started?" Mira pressed.

Her voice was calm, even, but there was a hint of suspicion now, a sliver of something knowing.

As if she was already filling in the blanks.

As if she was already deciding the truth for herself.

Ash’s throat tightened, her fingers clenching into fists at her sides.

She had to say something.

She had to explain.

But the problem was—

She didn’t have an answer.

Because she hadn’t left.

Because she had sat there, soaking up every second of Naomi’s words, losing herself in her submission, moaning as she filled her diaper like an obedient little baby.

And Mira?

Mira was waiting for an answer.

An answer Ash didn’t have.

Ash felt the sting of tears welling in her eyes, her breath shaky, and her mind spinning with the events of the previous moment.

She couldn’t explain herself.

She couldn’t justify it.

She had sat there; she had let it happen, and she had moaned like a helpless baby as she filled her diaper in front of everyone.

She had—

Before she could spiral further, Mira sighed softly, stepping forward and pulling her into a tight hug.

Ash yelped, stiffening in Mira’s embrace, but the woman just rubbed slow, gentle circles on her back like she was soothing a fussy child.

"It’s okay, Ash," Mira murmured, her voice soft, understanding. "If you’re feeling like a Little, that’s nothing to be ashamed of."

Ash froze.

Her breath caught.

"After all," Mira continued, "Maturosis strikes Tweeners just as much as it does Littles."

White-hot rage ignited in Ash’s chest, burning away the humiliation, the shame, and the lingering haze of Naomi’s voice.

She shoved back from Mira, her hands shaking, her eyes flashing with fury.

"I am NOT suffering from that!"

Mira blinked, unfazed, as if she had expected this exact reaction.

"Ash—"

"I am NOT showing my ‘true colors,’" Ash snapped, her voice sharp, venomous. "I am NOT secretly a baby, I am NOT regressing, and I am NOT—"

Mira’s expression softened, her lips curling into a gentle, pitiful smile.

"Ash, sweetheart," she said, her tone filled with something deeper—not mockery, not patronization—just… understanding.

As if she had seen this before.

As if she had helped Littles through their denial so many times, she already knew where this conversation was going.

"It’s okay," she repeated, her voice so unbearably patient and so unbearably kind that it made Ash want to scream.

"I get it. Truly, I do."

Ash’s fists clenched, her whole body shaking, her diaper crinkling softly beneath her movements, another painful reminder of her ‘situation.’

"I’ve been a caregiver for years, Ash," Mira continued, tilting her head slightly. "I know the signs of Maturosis. I know how hard it is to accept that things are changing. That you’re changing."

Ash’s stomach twisted violently, a new wave of horror washing over her.

"I am NOT—"

"Maybe," Mira cut in, her voice so gentle it made Ash’s skin crawl, "you should take some time for yourself."

Ash blinked, her mind stuttering to a halt.

"Maybe," Mira continued, "you should step down from running the daycare. Just for a while. Just… live the life you want to."

Ash’s mouth fell open, her thoughts slamming against each other in a frantic, chaotic mess.

"I worked so hard for this!" she sputtered, her voice raw, desperate, frantic. "I am NOT stepping down! Absolutely not!"

Mira just… smiled.

A weak, knowing smile, like she had heard this exact argument before.

Like she already knew the outcome.

She squeezed Ash’s hand gently, rubbing her thumb over Ash’s knuckles, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know you’ll make the right choice eventually."

Ash’s stomach turned.

Mira’s hand slipped from hers, her expression still soft, kind, maddeningly patient as she took a step back.

"But no matter what you decide," she added, "I’ll support you."

Then—

She walked away.

Just like that.

Leaving Ash standing there, dumbfounded, breathless, furious, shaken to her core.

Because Mira didn’t believe she was capable of making the right choice.

Because Mira thought she had already made it.

And worst of all—

Mira thought it was only a matter of time before Ash realized it, too.

Maturosis.

She hadn’t heard that word in years.

She had thought it was a relic of the past, one of those horrible, outdated justifications that Amazons used to strip Littles of their rights—a fairy tale designed to make oppression sound like love.

And yet, here she was.

Mira stood outside her, speaking in that gena patient voice, looking and looking like she had already lost.

Like she was already one of them.

Like she was already a baby.

Ash’s breath hitched, her fists clenching at her sides, her mind racing through every story she had ever heard about Maturosis—

And what happened to those who were diagnosed with it.

Maturosis was a tool of control—nothing more, nothing less.

A fake disorder, a weaponized lie, something Amazons created to justify their twisted need to "care" for Littles.

The stories were always the same.

A Little showing defiance? They must be struggling with Maturosis.

A Little having an accident—whether real or staged? Oh, their body is regressing!

A Little displaying fear, distress, or resistance? They’re overwhelmed. They need simpler care. They need someone to take control.

It didn’t matter what the truth was.

The moment an Amazon decided a Little had Maturosis—

That was it.

Their life was over.

Legally? They were doomed.

Once the label was applied, no one would listen to them. The law sided with the Amazons every single time.

Socially? They were lost.

Even the most "lenient" Amazons would only allow them tiny freedoms at their discretion.

The only way to escape was to run, to hide, to disappear completely.

And Ash?

She had fought so hard to escape it.

She had built a new life.

She had won.

Until now.

Until she stood in a daycare she owned, wearing a diaper, she couldn’t remove, and was told she should step down because she was struggling to accept her ‘true self.’

Ash felt sick.

Disgusted.

Because she had heard this all before.

From every single Amazon who had ever taken a Little.

"I know the signs."
"I’ve seen this before."
"You’re struggling to accept it, but you’ll be so much happier once you do."
"Let me help you."
"You don’t have to fight it."

They always said the same things.

Because they believed it.

Because Maturosis made them feel justified.

They weren’t kidnapping Littles; they were saving them.

They weren’t stealing independence; they were giving them what they truly needed.

And worst of all—

Maturosis silenced every argument before it could even be spoken.

How could a Little be trusted to speak for themselves when they were mentally regressing?

Why should anyone listen to them when their condition was so obvious?

Ash’s hands trembled, her pulse pounding violently in her ears as Mira’s words replayed in her mind.

You should take some time for yourself.
"Step down from running the daycare."
"Just live the life you want to."

It wasn’t a suggestion.

It was an invitation.

An invitation to give up.

To stop fighting.

To accept that she was already doomed.

Because that was the final piece of Maturosis.

It wasn’t just about taking away Littles’ rights.

It was about making them believe they had no other choice.

And Mira—kind, understanding, patient Mira—

She truly believed that Ash would figure it out soon enough.

That she would see the truth.

That she would realize she had always been a baby at heart.

And Ash?

Ash wasn’t just terrified.

She was furious.

Because she wasn’t a baby.

She was never a baby.

And no amount of lies, manipulation, or twisted Amazon logic was going to change that.

Ash stormed across the daycare, her steps sharp and furious, her breath ragged, her pulse pounding violently in her ears.

She didn’t care if Mira watched her leave.

She didn’t care if the other assistants noticed her frustration.

She didn’t care about anything except getting to the Nanny Bot’s control panel and fixing what had been done to her.

Her fingers flew over the touchscreen, thumbing through menus, navigating into her profile.

Her stomach churned as she skimmed the logs, each one tracking her movements, her changes, her accidents like she was nothing more than a helpless, dependent Little.

Her face burned as she scrolled through the most recent inputs—

Diapers: Required (Locking)
Supervised Changes: Mandatory
Care Level: Increased Supervision Recommended

Her throat tightened, rage coiling inside her like a snake, her entire body humming with the need to fight back.

She pressed the modification button.

She erased one of the inputs.

Then another.

Then—

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?!"

Ash’s breath caught in her throat, her entire body going stiff.

Mira’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was strained, low, and hushed, laced with an undercurrent of anger as she stomped toward Ash.

Ash spun around, her hands trembling, but Mira was already in front of her, her expression twisted into a deep, disappointed frown.

"Ash," she hissed, grabbing Ash’s wrist and yanking it away from the control panel. "You are supposed to be a model for everyone here!"

Ash’s stomach twisted, heat rushing up her neck, her mouth opening and closing, unable to find the words.

"You’re supposed to be the owner!" Mira continued, her voice sharp, her grip firm, her eyes flashing with something deep and unshakable.

"You’re supposed to follow the rules, to demonstrate what it means to be good!"

Ash flinched at that word.

"And now?" Mira’s lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

"Now, you’re sneaking around? Are you trying to get out of your punishment? Out of the care you NEED?"

Ash shook her head, her heart racing, her hands trembling at her sides.

"I—I don’t need—"

"I thought," Mira cut her off, her voice cooling, turning into something quieter, something far more dangerous, "that maybe you were just acting out."

Ash’s breath hitched.

"That may be," Mira continued, tilting her head slightly, her gaze heavy, assessing, "you weren’t actually afflicted with Maturosis. That maybe you were just… scared."

Ash shrunk beneath those words.

Her fingertips tingled, her vision blurred, her mind spiraling.

No.

No, no, no—

"But now?" Mira sighed, shaking her head.

"Now, I’m certain."

Ash’s stomach plummeted.

Her body went cold.

Mira’s hand grabbed her wrist, her grip strong and unwavering, yanking her forward—

And before Ash could react, resist, protest, anything—

She was hauled over Mira’s lap.

Her diaper crinkled loudly, her body locked in place, her legs kicking weakly, her breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps.

"No—wait—Mira—"

Mira’s palm came down hard.

SMACK.

Ash yelped, her body tensing, jerking forward, the sharp sting radiating across her backside, deep and humiliating.

"You should be better than this, Ash."

SMACK.

Tears pricked at her eyes, her cheeks burning red, her body shaking with humiliation and rage, but Mira didn’t stop.

SMACK.

"I expected more from you."

SMACK.

"I believed in you."

Ash whimpered, her fingers gripping Mira’s leg, her diaper squishing beneath her, every movement sending fresh waves of humiliation crashing over her.

She had fought so hard.

She had worked so hard.

And now?

Now she was being spanked like a misbehaving child in her daycare, in a thick, crinkling diaper she couldn’t remove, being told she wasn’t fit to run her own business anymore.

And the worst part?

Mira believed every word she was saying.

Mira finally stopped, her palm pausing midair, the sharp sting of the spanking still radiating across Ash’s backside.

Ash let out a soft sniffle, her breath shaky, her fingers immediately moving to rub the sore skin through the thick padding of her diaper.

Tears still ran down her cheeks, her body hot with shame, and she pointedly avoided looking at Mira.

She couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

But Mira wasn’t finished.

She waved a finger in Ash’s face, her expression stern and unwavering, and her posture was strong and authoritative.

And though they were nearly the same height, Ash felt like she was nothing more than a misbehaving child being reprimanded by an adult.

"Ash."

Ash flinched, her lip trembling.

"You have GOT to get a grip!"

Ash swallowed hard, biting her tongue, but Mira wasn’t done.

"I still believe in you," Mira pressed, her voice firm, unwavering, like she was trying to shake sense into Ash. "I still think you can beat this. I think you can be the big girl you were meant to be."

Ash’s stomach twisted painfully, her pulse pounding violently in her ears.

"And I WILL help you."

Ash whimpered softly, her fingers twitching at her sides, her mind desperate to escape this conversation, to run, to disappear.

"But you have to stop being in denial about your true self."

Her throat tightened.

"Do you understand?"

Ash nodded weakly, defeated, unable to do anything else.

Mira sighed, then—

Pulled Ash into a hug.

Warm. Strong. Unshakable.

"It’s going to be okay," she whispered against Ash’s hair, her arms tight around her, as if she were offering comfort instead of reinforcing the very thing that was breaking Ash apart.

Then—

"Maybe I should stay the night."

Ash tensed instantly, her eyes widening in pure panic.

"N-no—"

"Ash," Mira cut her off, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. "I want to help. I think you need support from a true caregiver."

"I don’t—"

"Shhh," Mira soothed, brushing a strand of hair from Ash’s damp cheeks, shushing her like a nervous toddler. "I’ll just stop by before bed, check in on you, help you settle down. That’s it. A middle ground."

Ash’s stomach dropped, and her throat went dry.

There was no way out.

Mira was going to come, whether she agreed or not.

And if she fought?

Mira would see it as further proof that she was acting out, struggling to accept her ‘true self,’ proving her ‘condition’ was real.

"O-okay," Ash whispered, reluctantly agreeing, feeling sick as the words left her mouth.

Mira smiled, pleased, patting Ash’s shoulder reassuringly.

"Good girl."

Ash’s skin crawled.

"You’re making the right choice, Ash. The big girl choice."

Mira gave her a warm, proud look that made Ash want to scream, cry, and disappear at once.

"You’re on your way to recovery."

Mira then walked away, leaving Ash standing there, numb, frozen, and suffocating under the weight of what had just happened.

Tonight, Mira would be coming over.

"Miss Ash!"

Kaylee bounded up to her, giggling like the perfect picture of childlike innocence, tugging on Ash’s arm with unrestrained enthusiasm.

But Ash wasn’t blind.

She didn’t miss it.

Kaylee’s outfit was tighter now. Her dress barely concealed the diaper beneath it, and the hem lifted too easily with each bounce, giggle, and deliberate, exaggerated movement.

She was really selling it.

She was taller than Ash now.

And yet, she played the role so well.

So well that if Ash hadn’t known the truth, she might have believed it herself.

Ash forced a strained smile, doing her best to play along, not to let the crushing weight of her situation, her humiliation, and her spiraling loss of control show on her face.

"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice too tight, too forced, but good enough for the watching eyes.

Kaylee pouted dramatically, reeeaaallllyyy laying it on thick before lifting the hem of her skirt, showing off her sagging diaper, bottom lip jutting out like a helpless child.

Ash let out a soft chuckle, playing her part, reaching for Kaylee’s hand and guiding her toward the private restroom.

She barely had the door shut before—

"Oof—!"

A surprised yelp escaped her as Kaylee wrapped her arms around her, crushing Ash into a tight, desperate hug, all traces of the act vanishing instantly.

No giggles.

No innocent pouts.

Just raw, unfiltered emotion.

"I’m so, so sorry..." Kaylee whispered, voice shaking, her grip tightening around Ash.

Ash’s stomach twisted painfully, her hands fisting into Kaylee’s dress, her entire body going rigid.

"I saw the logs."

Ash’s breath hitched.

"I saw what happened."

The wall Ash had carefully constructed around her emotions—the fragile, splintering shield she had been desperately holding onto ever since Mira left her standing there, helpless and humiliated—

It shattered.

As if it had been made of twigs and dust.

The weight of it all crashed over her, suffocating, unbearable, the raw, overwhelming anguish she had been choking back for hours, finally breaking free.

She melted.

She collapsed into Kaylee’s embrace, her hands clutching her tightly, the sobs ripping from her chest in uncontrollable, shattered gasps.

Kaylee held her.

Held her without question, without judgment, without hesitation.

Her hands ran soothingly up and down Ash’s back, her voice soft, pained, guilty.

"I understand, Ash."

"I understand."

Ash buried her face against Kaylee’s shoulder, her entire body shaking, the flood of emotions too much, too raw, too heavy—

But for the first time all-day—

She didn’t have to hold it in alone.

Ash sobbed openly, completely undone, completely shattered, completely lost in her own pain.

For the first time since this nightmare began, she let herself feel it all—the humiliation, the helplessness, the fear, the overwhelming, suffocating loss of control.

She didn’t stop to think.

Didn’t stop to consider.

She didn’t stop to see the truth staring her in the face.

Kaylee was living her hell.

Kaylee, who had once been an Amazon.

Kaylee, who had been strong, confident, and in control.

Kaylee, who now had to pretend to be a child.

Who had to giggle and bounce and pout like a helpless little girl—

All while lifting her skirt, exposing her diapers to an entire classroom of Littles and Tweeners, to everyone watching, to a world that would never see her as an adult again.

She was holding herself together far more than Ash ever could.

And yet—

Here she was.

Holding Ash together instead.

Kaylee soothed her, whispering soft reassurances, rubbing slow circles into Ash’s back, her grip like iron, steady, strong, unyielding.

An anchor.

Ash was emotionally adrift, tossed about in the wake of a typhoon, battered by wave after wave of unbearable, suffocating emotion—

And Kaylee was the only thing keeping her from drowning completely.

Ash clung to her, shaking, weeping against her shoulder, letting herself sink into the comfort, into the safety, into the one person who still saw her as Ash and not…

Not a baby.

Not a victim of Maturosis.

Not a helpless, diapered Tweener who would never be an adult again.

Just Ash.

And right now, that was the only thing that mattered.

"How…?"

Ash’s voice barely made it out, choked and fragile, tangled in her broken sobs.

Her fingers gripped Kaylee’s shirt, clinging to her like a lifeline, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"How are you keeping yourself together, Kaylee?"

Kaylee didn’t answer right away.

Ash sniffled, trying to breathe through the tears, trying to make sense of everything, trying to understand how Kaylee wasn’t falling apart the same way she was.

"You’ve been through so much."

Kaylee stilled.

"You’ve fallen so far."

Kaylee’s hands tightened around her.

"You’ve—"

Kaylee cut her off, her grip shifting, her body hunching down, her face serious, her eyes locking onto Ash’s with unshakable intensity.

"Yes, Ash," she said, her voice low, steady, raw with truth.

"I am living my worst nightmare."

Ash’s breath caught, but Kaylee didn’t stop.

"I’m living a hell no Amazon can think to find themselves in."

Her fingers tightened on Ash’s arms, grounding her.

"I hate every living moment of it."

Her jaw clenched, her breath shuddering, but she held firm.

"But you—"

She tilted Ash’s chin up, forcing her to look at her, forcing her to listen.

"You have been through far more."

Ash froze.

Kaylee’s voice didn’t waver.

"You were forced into true infancy, Ash."

Her words cut deep, slicing through Ash’s fragile walls, exposing the wounds she had long since tried to bury.

"You were heavily drugged, completely and utterly controlled."

Ash shuddered violently, her fingers digging into Kaylee’s arms, the memories slamming into her all at once.

The bottles.
The forced feedings.
The restraints.
The mind-numbing haze of medication kept her docile, blank, empty.

"No one cared about your mental well-being during that time."

Kaylee’s voice dropped lower, softer—but no less true.

"You weren’t a person to them, Ash."

"You were just a body. A shell."

Ash’s vision blurred, the memories consuming her, pulling her back into the suffocating past.

"You were a plaything for those wretched people."

Kaylee’s hands shook slightly, but she didn’t stop.

"You were nothing more than a doll."

Ash choked on a sob, her body tensing, the weight of those words breaking her all over again.

But Kaylee?

Kaylee wasn’t done.

"But me?"

She took a sharp breath, her hands loosening, but her eyes never left Ash’s.

"Sure, I was forced into babyhood."

"I lost everything."

"But you, despite the pure, unrelenting hatred you rightfully felt for me—"

Ash flinched.

She had hated Kaylee.

She had wanted her to suffer.

And yet—

"You never mistreated me."

Ash’s breath stalled.

"You never treated me like the trash those Amazons treated you as."

Kaylee swallowed hard, her voice thick with emotion.

"You, despite everything, treated me with love, care, and kindness."

Ash’s eyes widened, more tears threatening to spill, but Kaylee wasn’t finished.

"And I didn’t deserve it."

"Not after what I did to you."

Ash squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. She did not want to hear it, not wanting to accept that any of this was real.

"But you did it anyway," Kaylee continued, her voice strong, firm, undeniable.

"Because it’s who you are."

"You are a good person, Ash."

"You care for the people around you. Even the ones you hated."

"Because it was the right thing to do."

Ash couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t deny it.

Because Kaylee was right.

Even when Ash had been reduced to nothing, even when she had been stripped of her agency, her dignity, her humanity—

She had still chosen kindness.

She had still chosen love.

Fresh tears dripped down Ash’s cheeks, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps, the weight of everything still pressing down on her—

But this time, she wasn’t alone.

She wrapped her arms tightly around Kaylee, gripping her like a lifeline. Her fingers clutched Kaylee’s dress, holding onto her as if letting go would send her spiraling into the abyss again.

Kaylee held her just as tightly, pulling Ash’s head toward her chest, supporting her, grounding her, and keeping her safe in the storm.

"Ash," Kaylee whispered, her voice thick with emotion, trembling slightly as her hands rubbed slow, gentle circles along Ash’s back.

"I never, ever wanted to hurt you."

Ash shuddered, her breath catching, her grip tightening.

"I genuinely didn’t."

Kaylee’s voice was so soft, so heavy with regret; it made Ash’s heartache.

"I wanted to undo the pain and suffering they put you through."

"I wanted to make it better."

"But I went about it the wrong way."

Ash could feel it in her voice—

The raw, genuine emotion behind every word, the deep, unshakable regret that radiated off her like heat.

"I was selfish."

"I was stupid."

"I was naïve. Ignorant."

Kaylee held her closer as if she needed Ash to truly, deeply feel the truth in her words.

"I should have never tried to help you the way I did."

Ash’s fingers trembled, her whole body shaking, but Kaylee wasn’t finished.

"I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Ash let out a shaky breath, her tears soaking into Kaylee’s dress, her chest aching with too many emotions all at once.

But she believed her.

For the first time since Kaylee’s betrayal—

She believed her.

"I believe you."

Kaylee froze.

Just for a moment.

Her grip slackened—

Then—

It tightened again, impossibly stronger, as she lifted Ash clean off the floor, hugging her so tightly, so fiercely, Ash could barely breathe.

"Oh, Ash," Kaylee whispered, voice thick, raw, emotional.

Ash sobbed harder, clinging to her, so scared, so terrified of losing everything.

"I worked so hard," Ash choked out.

"I built myself up after—"

Her voice broke.

"I’m so scared of losing it all again."

Kaylee pressed her forehead against Ash’s, her grip softening just slightly, her hands steady and firm, her words unwavering.

"You won’t."

She set Ash down, their noses nearly touching, their eyes locked.

Kaylee’s gaze burned with determination.

"I understand."

"I’m sorry."

"And I refuse to let it happen."

Her fingers curled around Ash’s shoulders, her stance strong, unshakable, immovable.

"No matter what happens."

"No matter what they do."

"I will support you."

"I will fight for you."

"You will not lose everything you worked for."

Her breath shook, but her words didn’t.

"Because Ash?"

"You deserve this."

Ash’s breath hitched, her eyes wide, unblinking, overwhelmed by the sheer, raw intensity of Kaylee’s conviction.

"You deserve a life you want to live."

"You deserve love."

"You deserve this."

Ash stared at her, barely able to breathe, her whole world spinning—

Because for the first time in a long, long time—

She almost believed it, too.