For the second time in her life—

Far too many times for one life—

Ash held a syringe in her hand.

It felt like poison.

It felt like it was on fire.

It was a small, deceptively simple design, disguising it for what it truly was.

A curse.

A sentence.

A complete and utter loss of self.

Kaylee had only had two vials of the stuff.

The first?

Had gone into Kaylee’s thigh at the hand of Ash.

The second?

Now rested in the clear glass of the syringe in Ash’s trembling hand.

The liquid inside swirled, catching the light, mocking her, reminding her of the irreversible choice she was about to make.

Below here

Mira’s unconscious body lay still, her chest rising and falling steadily.

Oblivious.

Unaware of how close she was to never waking up the same person again.

Ash’s hand shook, the weight of the moment pressing down on her so heavily she could barely breathe.

She turned to Kaylee, her voice hoarse, desperate, breaking.

"Kaylee, tell me to stop."

Kaylee didn’t respond.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

She only stared wide-eyed, her expression a perfect reflection of Ash’s horror.

"This is insane," Ash whispered, her breath shaky, her fingers clenching around the syringe.

"This is insane!"

She could barely hold it still, her knuckles white, her body trembling violently.

"Please," Ash begged, her voice breaking apart, her entire being pleading for Kaylee to stop her.

"Tell me we have another choice."

Kaylee swallowed hard, her throat moving painfully, her own hands shaking at her sides.

Then, her lips parted—

And the words crushed Ash’s soul.

"We don’t."

Ash let out a strangled sound, like a sob, like a breath, like a cry for something she would never get.

"If we don’t do this," Kaylee continued, her voice low and tight, so full of reluctant certainty it hurt. Mira is going to the authorities."

"She will tell them everything."

"She will destroy everything we’ve built."

Kaylee shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And there will be no coming back from that either."

Ash felt her stomach twist violently, her vision swimming, the weight of the syringe in her hand turning unbearably heavy.

There was no going back if they did this.

No undoing it.

No fixing it.

She was about to steal someone’s body.

To take away everything Mira had ever known.

To turn her into something else entirely.

Her fingers tightened—

The needle hovered just over Mira’s thigh.

All she had to do was push it in.

All she had to do was press the plunger.

All she had to do was—

Change Mira’s life forever.

Her hand trembled violently, the syringe quivering between her fingers, her entire body shaking so hard she thought she might collapse.

Her eyes went glassy, her vision blurring with unshed tears, each drop slipping silently down her cheeks, landing on the unconscious girl beneath her.

Mira looked so… defenseless.

So small, even as a Tweener.

And soon, she would be even smaller.

This was the only way.

The only way they could truly, genuinely control her.

If she remained a Tweener, she would never stop fighting.

She would never stop trying to escape.

She would slip away the first chance she got and take them down with her.

Ash’s breath hitched, her chest tightening, her heart slamming against her ribs.

She didn’t want to do this.

She really, really didn’t want to do this.

The syringe nearly slipped from her slackened fingers, her grip weakening under the weight of her horror and disgust.

Then—

A warm hand covered hers, steady, strong, fingers tightening around her trembling grip.

Kaylee.

Her presence grounded Ash, stopping the syringe from falling and disappearing into the void of hesitation and regret.

Kaylee leaned in close, her breath soft against Ash’s ear, her voice a whisper, quiet but firm, heavy with finality.

"If we’re going to do this..."

Ash swallowed hard, her pulse roaring in her ears.

"We do it together."

Ash nodded, barely able to move, barely able to breathe past the suffocating nausea curling in her gut.

Then—

A long, shaky breath.

They pressed the needle into Mira’s thigh.

Ash gasped sharply the moment the needle pierced flesh, her whole body seizing as if she had just stabbed herself instead of Mira.

The syringe emptied, the liquid disappearing into Mira’s bloodstream, her body completely unaware of the horrific, irreversible change that had just been forced upon it.

Ash yanked the syringe back, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her hands shaking violently as she dropped it to the floor.

She couldn’t—

She couldn’t breathe.

Her stomach twisted and churned, her mouth filling with bile, her body fighting against the sheer, unrelenting horror of what she had just done.

She was going to be sick.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, fighting the overwhelming nausea, her vision swimming, her head spinning out of control.

This was sick.

This was vile.

This was monstrous.

And she had done it anyway.

Because they had no other choice.

Kaylee’s grip tightened around her, holding her together and stopping her from completely shattering into a million broken pieces.

But the damage?

It was already done.

And there was no coming back from it now.

For the second time in her life, Ash watched in horror as a person shrank before her very eyes.

It was slow at first—a subtle shift, like a trick of the light—

Then, it became undeniable.

Mira’s limbs grew smaller, her proportions shifting, her body shrinking in on itself, the very fabric of her identity unraveling in real time.

Her clothes, which once fitted perfectly to her Tweener frame, loosened and bunched. The sleeves slid down, and the waistband gaped as her torso shrank away from it.

The diaper pinned around her hips—

Ash’s stomach lurched violently.

The once snug fit grew slack, the padding sagging uselessly between her legs, the tapes barely clinging to what little shape remained.

This was really happening.

This wasn’t a hypothetical.

This wasn’t a nightmare she could wake up from.

They had done this.

They had made this choice.

And there was no taking it back.

Ash’s breaths came in ragged, gulping gasps, her vision blurring with fresh tears, her entire body shaking so violently she thought she might collapse.

She felt arms wrap around her, pulling her in, shielding her, turning her away from the sight before her.

Kaylee.

"Don’t watch."

Her voice was soft but firm, gentle but pleading, and filled with the urgency that only came from someone who was barely holding it together.

Ash pressed her face against Kaylee’s shoulder, her sobs breaking apart, her chest aching, her mind spiraling into the abyss of what they had just done.

Kaylee held her tight, but Ash could feel it.

She could feel that Kaylee wasn’t okay, either.

Her grip was just a little too strong, her body just a little too rigid, her breaths just a little too uneven.

Kaylee was on the verge of breaking, too.

Ash could feel it creeping in, the same panic that was threatening to consume her, the edges of their world collapsing in around them.

No.

Neither of them was okay.

Not even close.

Kaylee’s grip tightened, her voice low, urgent, soothing but firm.

"Ash."

Ash sobbed, her body weak, her breath uneven, nausea churning violently in her stomach.

"Go to the bedroom."

Kaylee gently but firmly guided her, pulling her away and leading her out of the suffocating space where Mira’s shrunken form lay.

"Take all the time you need."

Ash’s chest tightened, her vision blurring, the weight of it all crushing her, drowning her.

"You’ll be okay."

Ash looked up at her, eyes red and swollen, about to ask if Kaylee was sure—

But then—

A fresh wave of nausea slammed into her, twisting her stomach into knots, her throat tightening with bile.

No.

She couldn’t stay here.

She had to get out.

Her voice barely made it out, a weak, broken nod, before she turned on shaky legs and ran.

Ran to the bedroom.

Ran away from the horror in that room.

Ran from what they had just done.

She burrowed into the blankets, curling into herself, the fabric swallowing her whole, muffling her ragged, uneven sobs.

Her fingers gripped the sheets, holding onto them like they were the only thing keeping her from unraveling completely.

But she couldn’t shut it out.

The thoughts.

The whispers claw at the edges of her already fractured mind.

"You’re becoming the very thing you’ve fought against."

"You’re no better than them."

"You forced someone into something against their will."

"Just like they did to you."

Ash shook violently, curled tighter, and pressed her face into the pillow, willing the thoughts to stop, to disappear, to vanish into nothing.

But they didn’t.

Because of this?

This wasn’t something she could run from.

Not anymore.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been hiding—curled up, wrapped in blankets, trapped alone with her thoughts, with her guilt, with the weight of what they had done pressing down on her like a crushing tide.

She might have stayed there forever if not for the soft creak of the bedroom door.

A quiet click as it shut again.

The sound of rustling sheets that weren’t hers.

And then—

The warmth of Kaylee slipping into bed beside her, pulling the blankets up over both of them, wrapping Ash in a firm, loving, unshakable embrace.

Ash didn’t hesitate.

She turned over, burrowing herself into Kaylee’s grasp, her fingers clutching onto the fabric of Kaylee’s shirt, holding on like she was the only thing keeping her from completely shattering.

Her breath hitched.

A fresh wave of tears welled up, threatening to spill.

"Kaylee..."

Her voice quivered, fragile, raw, broken.

"What have we done?"

Kaylee let out a long, slow breath, her arms tightening around Ash, her fingers running soothingly up and down her back.

"What we had to."

Ash shuddered, shaking her head, but Kaylee didn’t stop.

"I don’t like it any more than you do."

Her voice was low steady, but laced with exhaustion.

"But if we hadn’t—"

A pause.

A long, painful pause.

"We’d both be shipped off to some reprogramming facility."

Ash winced.

Kaylee held her tighter.

"And that?"

A beat.

A sharp exhale through her nose.

"That’s a fate far worse than anything we’re putting Mira through."

Ash swallowed hard, her body still trembling, her hands still weakly clenching Kaylee’s shirt.

"Mira," she murmured, voice shaky, unsure, numb.

"How… how is she?"

Kaylee let out another breath, her fingers stroking soothingly through Ash’s hair now.

"She’s… fine."

A pause.

"I got her into a diaper, a onesie, and into the crib."

Ash nodded weakly, the words barely registering through the fog of guilt surrounding her.

"Her pacifier has a little extra something in it to make sure she sleeps well."

Ash’s stomach twisted, but she nodded again.

Numb.

Completely and utterly numb.

Kaylee pulled her even closer; her warmth was the only thing keeping Ash grounded in reality.

Neither of them spoke.

Because what was left to say?

Nothing would undo this.

Nothing would make it right.

They had made their choice.

They lay there for a long time, neither speaking, neither moving, just holding onto one another, letting the silence settle between them like a fragile truce.

Ash wasn’t sure how long they had been there—minutes, hours, an eternity—when Kaylee’s hand drifted lower, pressing lightly against the front of Ash’s diaper.

"Ash," Kaylee murmured, not a question, just a quiet observation.

"You desperately need a change."

Ash blinked, her mind slow to process the words.

Did she?

She hadn’t even realized.

The moment had been so heavy, so suffocating, her grief so overwhelming, she hadn’t even noticed the warmth, the heaviness, the subtle squish of her padding beneath her.

Kaylee shifted, gently pushing Ash onto her back. Her movements were calm and unhurried as if she had already decided for both of them that this was happening.

"Relax," Kaylee whispered, already reaching for supplies.

"Let me take care of everything."

Ash should have protested.

Should have told her she could do it herself.

But…

She didn’t.

Because, in all honesty?

She probably couldn’t.

Not just because of the locking tabs.

Not just because of the stupid system forcing her into dependence.

But because emotionally—

She was in no position to care for herself.

Kaylee worked in calm silence; her touch gently practiced, her movements steady and precise.

Ash lay there limply, letting her go through the motions—untaping, cleaning, powdering, sealing her into a fresh diaper—barely registering any of it.

She was too tired.

Too emotionally drained.

When Kaylee finished, she didn’t even pause before repeating the process on herself, changing into a clean, dry diaper, making sure they were both taken care of before settling back beside Ash.

The lights clicked off, and the room bathed in darkness.

Kaylee curled into Ash, her arms wrapping securely around her as if she was afraid to let go.

Ash buried her face into Kaylee’s shoulder, her body seeking warmth, comfort, something real to hold onto.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them needed to.

And finally—

Finally—

They drifted off into sleep together.

Ash’s dreams were horrific.

She was trapped, staring up helplessly, her body small, weak, useless.

She lay on a changing table, her limbs unresponsive, her mouth filled with a pacifier she couldn’t spit out, her muffled cries swallowed by the rubber bulb.

And above her—

Towering over her, smirking cruelly, a syringe gleaming in her hand—

Was herself.

Not just herself.

A twisted, monstrous version of herself, grinning down at her with cold, merciless amusement.

"It’s okay, sweetheart."

The needle pressed into her thigh.

"It’s for your good."

Pain. Burning. Shifting. Shrinking.

Her muffled screams, the feeling of her body folding inward, changing, becoming something else—

No, no, NO!

Ash startled awake, gasping, shaking, her body drenched in sweat.

She wasn’t Mira.

She was Ash.

Her breathing was uneven, her heart pounding violently in her chest, her mind still tangled in the horror of the dream.

Kaylee was behind her, still sleeping—

But her arm was draped over Ash’s waist, her fingers moving in slow, rhythmic pats.

Comforting.

Soothing.

Like she had been trying to calm a baby crying in their sleep.

Because she thought—

She thought the baby was Ash.

But the crying wasn’t coming from her.

The sound was soft, muffled, and broken.

Ash’s blood went cold.

She bolted upright, twisting toward the crib in the corner of the room.

Kaylee groaned behind her, shifting groggily. "Ash…?"

But Ash wasn’t listening.

Because inside the crib—

Laying helplessly, her chest rising and falling with uneven, panicked breaths, tears streaming down her face—

Was Mira.

Awake.

Crying.

And for the first time, Ash got her first good look at what she had done.

Her first good look at what they had done.

At what they had turned her into.

Mira was still Mira—

The same sharp, defining features, the same trademark look, the same piercing green eyes that once held confidence, authority, and control.

But that was where the similarities ended.

She was smaller now.

A Little.

A tiny, soft, helpless thing, her body now rounded with baby fat, the once lean, athletic frame she had as a Tweener now buried beneath the clear, unmistakable signs of infancy.

Her limbs twitched, uncoordinated, and her fingers grasped uselessly at the crib sheets as if she were struggling to move properly.

She looked like she was relearning how to use her own body.

But none of that—

None of it—

That was what made Ash’s blood run cold.

It was her eyes.

Those same green eyes, now burning with pure, unfiltered, unrelenting rage.

Mira wasn’t just angry.

She wasn’t just furious.

She was boiling over with the kind of fury that could set the whole world on fire.

Ash felt her chest clench, her stomach twisted into knots, and her eyes went wide in alarm.

"Ohh, shit..."

A cold, horrible realization settled over her like a weight she couldn’t shake.

Mira wasn’t broken.

She wasn’t lost.

She was very much still Mira.

And she was going to make them pay.

Beside her, Kaylee stepped up, her towering frame suddenly impossible to ignore.

Ash had to tilt her head back just to meet her eyes, a fresh wave of nausea rolling through her as she realized just how much Kaylee had grown.

Kaylee was nearly a full-grown Amazon now.

And Ash?

She wasn’t.

And below them—

Mira’s furious expression flickered, her eyes going wide, surprise and pure shock breaking through the rage for just a moment as she took in what she was seeing.

Ash and Kaylee.

Standing over her.

Looking down at her.

Like she was nothing.

Like she was helpless.

Like she was—

A Little.

Her breath hitched, realization crashing over her—

And then—

She screamed through the pacifier in her mouth, thrashing violently, shaking the crib rails, pure rage radiating from her tiny frame.

Ash stepped back instinctively, feeling her body seize with panic.

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

They had really, really fucked up.

Mira thrashed violently, her tiny frame shaking the crib rails, her muffled screams vibrating through the pacifier gag, pure rage radiating off her in waves.

Ash stepped back instinctively, her body seizing with panic, her thoughts racing in a thousand directions.

They had really, really fucked up.

But thankfully—

Kaylee took charge.

Her voice was calm firm, but carrying the undeniable weight of authority.

"Mira."

Mira’s head snapped up, her furious eyes burning into Kaylee’s, her little body still shaking with barely restrained fury.

"The only thing you're going to accomplish by screaming and thrashing is earning yourself a fresh dosage of Little Knock-out juice."

Kaylee crossed her arms, raising a brow, her tone flat, serious, no-nonsense.

"Now, are you going to behave and listen or not?"

Ash could hear Mira grumbling behind the pacifier, her tiny fists clenching at her sides, her jaw tight with defiance.

But—

She stopped screaming.

Her body remained still, save for the occasional angry twitch. Her narrowed eyes flashed between Kaylee and Ash, and suspicion burned in their depths.

Ash let out a shaky breath, stepping closer to the side of the crib, heart pounding.

"I tried to tell you the truth, Mira."

Mira’s glare hardened, but she said nothing.

Ash gestured toward Kaylee, who stood there, tall, powerful, undeniably Amazonian.

"She really was an Amazon who got shrunk. Just like…"

Ash swallowed hard.

"Just like you are now."

Kaylee, still wearing that stern, authoritative look, leaned down and undid the pacifier, letting it deflate, before pulling it free from Mira’s mouth.

Mira coughed slightly, gasping as her jaw was finally free. Her tiny frame still radiates tension, frustration, and fury.

Her teeth clenched.

Her breath was uneven.

Then—

She turned her gaze onto Ash.

And the pure, seething hatred in her eyes made Ash’s stomach drop.

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

Mira’s voice was hoarse and slurred, but the meaning was crystal clear.

Pure, undiluted fury burned in her new, smaller voice, her eyes wild with rage as she glared daggers at them.

"What the hell did you do to me?!"

Ash flinched, guilt stabbing deep into her chest.

"Mira—"

"You threatened us!" Ash snapped, her voice wavering and uneven, her heart pounding in her ears. You were going to the cops!"

Mira snorted an ugly, furious sound, her little hands clenching the crib bars.

"Damn right, I was going to the cops!" she spat, her words still slightly sluggish from the pacifier’s effects but her rage burning through any weakness.

"And the moment I get out of this? I still am."

Ash’s blood ran cold.

"No!"

She lunged, her hands flying to Mira’s mouth, covering it as if that would somehow stop her from calling the police right that instant.

Mira sputtered, her tiny limbs flailing, her muffled yells furious and incoherent beneath Ash’s hand.

"You can’t!" Ash yelled, panic crashing through her, her mind spiraling, her grip tightening.

Mira finally jerked back, wrenching herself free, her breath heavy, her face flushed red with rage.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn’t turn both of you in."

Her voice was low, dangerous, deadly.

"One good, damn reason."

Ash froze.

Her stomach twisted into knots.

Ash and Kaylee locked eyes, and they exchanged silent glances, expressing panic, desperation, and the question, "What the hell do we even say to that?!"

Mira glared at them, her arms crossed over her new, smaller frame. Her furious, unwavering gaze demanded an answer.

"Well?" she snapped, her voice still slightly slurred, but her rage cutting through every weakness. "One good, damn reason."

Kaylee acted first.

She turned back to Mira, her posture shifting and straightening, her voice smoother and more calculated.

"Because," Kaylee started, her eyes steady, her tone controlled, "if you go to the cops, they won’t see you as the victim."

Mira blinked, stunned for a second, then scoffed.

"Bullshit."

Kaylee didn’t flinch.

"Really?" she challenged, crossing her arms. "And what exactly do you think they’re going to see when you show up at a station?"

She gestured at Mira, her tiny, soft, rounded frame and the diaper still snugly wrapped around her hips.

"Because from where I’m standing, all they’re going to see is another poor, helpless Little who needs to be cared for."

Mira’s expression flickered, something dangerous flashing in her eyes, but Kaylee kept going.

"Do you think they’re going to believe some ‘insane’ story about a Tweener getting turned into a Little against her will?"

Kaylee leaned down, her height now completely overwhelming as she stared into Mira’s furious, seething face.

"Or do you think they’ll assume what they always assume?"

A pause.

A long, heavy pause.

Then—

"That you were always a Little."

Mira’s jaw clenched.

Her fists tightened.

Ash, seizing the moment, finally found her voice.

"Mira," she whispered, stepping forward, trying to reach her through the rage. "If you go to them like this, you’ll never be taken seriously again."

Kaylee nodded, her voice softer now but still edged with finality.

"You won’t get revenge."

"You won’t get justice."

"You’ll just get adopted."

Mira stared at them, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling sharply, her anger vibrating in the space between them.

She was still furious.

Still boiling over with rage.

But—

She wasn’t dismissing them outright anymore.

Ash and Kaylee shared another look, their minds spinning in sync, both realizing the same undeniable truth—

Mira was still a threat.

No matter how angry she was, no matter how much they had convinced her the cops wouldn’t take her seriously—

She was still dangerous.

And if she was dead set on turning them in, regardless of whether she would be believed or not—

They couldn’t risk it.

Kaylee was the one who spoke first; her voice was even calm but edged with quiet authority.

"Then we’ll have to keep you close."

Mira’s eyes widened, a flicker of uncertainty breaking through her rage.

"What?" she hissed, her voice sharper now, defensive.

Ash stepped forward, crossing her arms, trying to channel even a fraction of the confidence she wished she had.

"You can’t be left alone, Mira."

"You won’t be allowed out of our sight."

"We’ll have to keep you under watch—keep you close, where you can’t do any damage."

Mira’s breath hitched, her expression shifting, a flicker of something new flashing in her eyes—

Panic.

The realization was starting to hit.

Kaylee didn’t let up.

"That means you’re going to have to play the part."

"Whether you like it or not."

Mira’s hands clenched into fists, her breathing growing heavier, more erratic, her entire body coiling with tension.

"You’re insane," she whispered, shaking her head. "You’re both insane!"

Ash swallowed hard, but her voice didn’t waver.

"Maybe."

She stepped closer to the crib, looking down at her, her stomach twisting with the weight of what she was about to say.

"But that doesn’t change your options."

She let the words hang there, pressing into the space between them like a heavy, suffocating weight.

Mira was starting to shake.

Because she knew.

She knew what was coming.

Kaylee exhaled softly, tilting her head slightly, her voice lower now, quieter, more deliberate.

"Either you play along, pretend this is all real, and live a life that—while humiliating—won’t be so bad…"

A pause.

A long, dangerous pause.

"Or…"

The air grew still.

Mira’s breath stuttered, her face draining of color, her hands gripping the blanket beneath her.

Because she knew.

And for the first time since waking up—

She looked genuinely afraid.

Mira’s chest rose and fell in sharp, panicked breaths, her fingers clenching at the blanket beneath her, but she still dared to glare up at them.

"You wouldn’t."

Her voice was low and firm, but underneath it, there was an unmistakable quiver, a crack in the armor of her defiance.

Ash arched an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly.

"We wouldn’t?"

Slowly, deliberately, she let her fingers trail along Mira’s new, smaller frame, her touch barely there, but the implication suffocating.

Mira flinched, her body going rigid beneath the contact.

"Hmm," Ash mused, her voice mocking, thoughtful, cold in a way that made her stomach twist, but she kept going.

"Let’s think about this, shall we?"

Kaylee watched silently, arms crossed, her presence looming over them both, letting Ash take the lead.

"We already turned you into a Little."

Mira sucked in a breath, but Ash wasn’t finished.

"And it seems," Ash continued, "that you’re suffering quite heavily from Maturosis."

Mira’s eyes went wide, her whole body stiffening like a live wire.

"Wh—"

"Creating grand lies and fabrications about your caregivers?"

Ash gave her a mocking pout, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s furious, tear-streaked face.

"Tsk, tsk."

Mira’s breath hitched, and Ash leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a gentle, patronizing coo.

"No, sweetheart."

"You’re in no position to try and take charge."

Mira shook her head violently, disbelief and rage flickering across her expression, her mouth opening to argue—

But Ash cut her off.

"So, let’s make this simple."

She straightened, crossing her arms, cool and composed.

"Are you going to behave?"

Mira’s jaw clenched, her entire body trembling with contained fury.

"Are you going to be our good Little girl?"

Her breath came in short, ragged bursts, her green eyes burning with unfiltered rage.

"Or…"

Ash let the word hang there, watching as Mira’s gaze flickered, a fresh wave of panic creeping into her expression.

"Do you need some help?"

The threat was clear.

Crystal.

Mira was trapped.

Completely.

Utterly.

Trapped.

"Until we can prove you’re not going to be a problem," Ash said, final, absolute, unwavering, "you’re going to be our Little baby girl."

"Whether you like it or not."

Mira froze, her breath catching in her throat, the words hitting her like a physical blow.

Then—

Her face crumbled.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, her little hands gripping the crib bars as if she could somehow pull herself out of this reality.

Then her voice rose, raw, panicked, pleading.

"Please—please, don’t do this."

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she begged, her tiny frame trembling violently.

"Anything but this!"

Ash felt her stomach twist painfully, but she steeled herself, her expression unwavering.

Mira was desperate now, her sobs breaking apart as she reached out, grabbing at Ash’s wrist with her tiny, shaking fingers.

"Return me to normal! I’ll be good! I—I won’t say a thing! I swear! I swear I won’t tell anyone!"

Kaylee let out a humorless scoff, shaking her head.

"Funny," she murmured, arms crossed, towering over the crib like an unshakable force.

"Because just a few minutes ago, you said the first thing you’d do is go to the authorities."

Mira sputtered, her face crumpling, her body rocking slightly as if she couldn’t believe this was real.

"I-I didn’t mean it!" she sobbed, her voice high, thin, barely recognizable as her own.

"I was—I was just mad! Please, just—please!"

Ash swallowed hard, but her voice remained steady.

"No, Mira."

Mira let out a sharp, broken sob, shaking her head, her whole body trembling violently.

Ash took a slow, controlled breath, forcing herself to hold firm, forcing herself to see this through.

"We can’t take that chance."

Kaylee nodded, her expression hard but not cruel.

"You are our Little now."

Mira let out a choked whimper, her little fingers gripping the bars so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Her whole body shook with the weight of reality settling over her.

This was happening.

She wasn’t going back.

And the only thing she could do?

Was break.