Hannah remained curled up in Daddy’s arms, her small frame pressed against his chest. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, a sound that should have been comforting. But her unease only deepened as they moved into the living room, and Daddy sat down with her on his lap.

The room was tastefully decorated, blending traditional warmth with modern sophistication. Plush armchairs and a sleek sofa surrounded a low, glass coffee table, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air. Yet the cozy setting couldn’t ease the tension as Miranda Pierce sat opposite them.

The Amazon minder sat rigidly and unnaturally, her back straight, her chin slightly raised, and her hands clasped neatly in her lap. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the room before settling on the trio. Her tailored blazer hugged her frame perfectly, and the faint creak of leather from her pencil skirt shifted as she crossed her legs, punctuating the silence.

Hannah shifted slightly in Daddy’s lap, her discomfort growing as Miranda’s gaze lingered on her for a fraction too long. She tightened her grip on Daddy’s shirt, her cheeks burning as she tried to make herself look smaller.

Miranda’s lips curved into a faint smile, though the warmth didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s get right to it,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an edge of authority that made Hannah’s stomach churn. “As you’re both aware, there are certain stipulations regarding your return to our world.”

Sitting on the sofa beside them, Emily shifted slightly in her seat, her hands resting tensely in her lap. Hannah could see the subtle tightness in her sister’s jaw, the faint flicker of irritation in her eyes. Daddy’s arm tightened protectively around Hannah as he leaned forward slightly, his expression calm but watchful.

Miranda continued, her tone even but unyielding. “First and foremost, you will be expected to adhere to the societal norms of Amazons and Littles. That means behaving consistently with what is outlined in the Little Care Act. This includes, but is not limited to, dressing appropriately, engaging in age-appropriate activities, and accepting the guidance of your guardian.”

Hannah’s cheeks flared red, her face pressing against Daddy’s chest as she tried to avoid Miranda’s piercing gaze. Age-appropriate activities, she thought bitterly. The words felt suffocating, a stark reminder of the infantilized role she was expected to play.

Miranda’s smile tightened slightly as she continued. “Second, you must always adhere to the guidance of the Little Care Act. This includes submitting to any directives from your guardian or myself. Deviation from these guidelines will not be tolerated.”

Emily’s fingers twitched in her lap, and Hannah could sense the tension radiating from her sister. Her unease only grew as Miranda’s voice took on a harder edge.

“And lastly,” Miranda said, her gaze sharpening as it swept over both girls, “if the Resistance attempts to contact you, you are to report it immediately. Any failure to do so will be considered a direct violation of this agreement.”

Hannah’s breath caught, her fingers curling into the fabric of Daddy’s shirt. The mention of the Resistance sent a chill down her spine. She could feel Daddy’s arm tighten around her again, his thumb brushing soothingly against her side as if sensing her distress.

Miranda’s tone grew colder, her smile fading as she leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Failure to follow these three rules will result in immediate action. You will be taken into custody and placed with someone who will ensure compliance.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of her words settling over them like a dark cloud. Hannah’s heart pounded in her chest, and she glanced at Emily, whose lips were pressed into a thin line, her expression carefully controlled. Even Daddy’s calm demeanor seemed strained, his jaw tightening as he gave Miranda a measured nod.

“Do you understand?” Miranda asked, her gaze shifting pointedly between the girls.

Hannah nodded hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, ma’am.”

Emily’s response was firmer, though the tension in her voice was unmistakable. “We understand.”

Miranda’s smile returned, though it was no more reassuring than before. “Good. Then we shouldn’t have any problems, should we?”

Miranda’s piercing gaze lingered on Hannah and Emily for a moment longer before shifting to Welby. Her smile tightened, her posture remaining rigid as she folded her hands neatly on her lap.

“Welby,” she began, her voice carrying the same cool authority, “as their designated guardian, you must submit daily reports on their progress. These reports will detail how well they adhere to the Little Care Act guidelines. I have personally validated that you understand the program and its expectations. You will be responsible for ensuring they follow the rules of the letter. Furthermore, as we discussed, you are to submit reports of your findings regarding… our little experiment.”

Hannah felt Daddy shift slightly beneath her, his arm tightening around her protectively. Glancing up at him, she noticed the subtle tension in his jaw as he nodded. “I understand,” he said evenly, his tone calm but resolute.

Miranda’s eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on him like a hawk eyeing its prey. “Good,” she said, her tone sharp. “Because if I find out that you’ve been lying in your reports or failing to enforce the program properly, there will be consequences. You won’t just lose the girls—you’ll be taken into custody yourself.”

The words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike, and Hannah felt her stomach churn. Her small hands curled into fists, gripping Daddy’s shirt as she tried to steady her breathing. The thought of losing him, of being taken away and placed with someone else, was too terrifying to dwell on.

Miranda let the silence linger, her gaze darting between them as if daring anyone to object. When none did, she leaned back slightly, her smile returning with an unsettling shift.

“Are there any questions?” she asked, her voice lighter now, though the underlying edge remained.

Hannah and Emily shook their heads quickly, their words caught in their throats. Daddy, too, remained silent. His steady gaze locked on Miranda, and he gave a small shake of his head.

“Excellent,” Miranda said, straightening in her seat. Her expression softened then, almost comically so, as if she were trying to project warmth and reassurance. But to Hannah, it felt forced, hollow—a façade that only made the unease in her chest grow.

“Well, then,” Miranda continued, her tone saccharine, “why don’t you get the girls dressed a bit more appropriately? After all, we must welcome them home properly.”

Hannah glanced at Emily, whose lips pressed into a tight line, her expression betraying a flicker of irritation. Emily’s gaze met hers, and in that silent exchange, Hannah saw her sister’s unspoken resolve. They would face this together, no matter how difficult it became.

Miranda rose smoothly from her seat, adjusting the hem of her blazer with a practiced grace. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” she said, her voice still dripping with artificial sweetness. “I’ll be checking in soon.”

With that, she turned and strode toward the doorway, her heels clicking against the polished floor with a precise rhythm. Hannah watched her go, a mix of relief and tension swirling within her. The room seemed to exhale as Miranda left, her imposing presence lingering like a shadow.

Daddy’s arms tightened around her, his voice soft but steady as he broke the silence. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, his gaze shifting between the two girls. “We’ve got this.”

Hannah wanted to believe him. She tried to think that, despite Miranda’s looming threats and the suffocating rules of the Little Care Act, they could find a way to make this work. But as she clung to Daddy’s shirt, her mind raced with doubts. The path ahead felt impossibly steep, and Miranda’s forced and hollow smile reminded them of how closely they would be watched.

As the sound of Miranda’s heels clicking down the driveway faded into silence, the door sliding shut behind her, the tension in the room seemed to lift, if only slightly. Hannah felt Daddy’s chest rise and fall beneath her, his steady breathing grounding her as he tightened his arms around her once more. None of them spoke for a moment, the quiet a welcome reprieve after the weight of Miranda’s presence.

Finally, Daddy exhaled deeply and stood, carefully shifting Hannah into his arms. “Well,” he said, his voice lighter but still carrying an undercurrent of weariness, “I suppose it’s time to show you your room and get you both changed.”

He helped Emily slide off the couch, his large hand steadying her as she adjusted her footing. Emily nodded, her expression neutral but her posture tense, as though still shaking off the remnants of Miranda’s scrutiny. Together, they began to ascend the staircase, Daddy’s heavy steps accompanied by the faint crinkle of Emily’s diaper as Hannah nursed her thumb contently, her other hand clutching his shirt.

The stairs led to a wide, softly lit hallway, the walls painted a soothing pastel blue. Daddy stopped before a door adorned with an elegant wooden plaque carved with the words “The Nursery” in flowing script. He smiled at the girls before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Hannah’s eyes widened as she took in the sight before her.

The nursery was breathtaking, a picture-perfect room designed with the utmost care and love. The walls were painted in soft shades of lavender and cream, the hues blending seamlessly into a mural that spanned the entire room. The mural depicted a whimsical forest with tall trees whose leaves shimmered like they were catching the sunlight, tiny woodland creatures peeking out from behind the foliage, and a winding path that seemed to invite you into a magical adventure.

In the center of the room were two matching cribs, their frames crafted from polished wood with intricate carvings of vines and flowers along the rails. Each crib was lined with plush bedding, and the blankets were patchworked with pastel colors and soft textures. One crib had a stuffed bunny tucked into the corner, its long ears flopped over the edge, while the other held a chubby teddy bear wearing a tiny bowtie.

Above each crib hung a delicately constructed mobile. The mobiles, with their tiny stars, moons, and planets gently rotating, caught the warm glow of the overhead light. When spun, the mobiles played a soothing lullaby, their soft melodies filling the room with calm.

A large changing table stood against one wall, its surface neatly arranged with stacks of diapers, wipes, and creams. Above it hung a shelf filled with neatly folded onesies, dresses, and tiny outfits in every pastel shade imaginable. Beside the table was a diaper pail, its sleek design blending effortlessly with the room’s decor.

Opposite the changing table was a cozy reading nook with a cushioned armchair and a low shelf filled with children’s books. A plush rug in the shape of a cloud covered the floor, its soft surface inviting enough for children to sit and play on. Toys, such as wooden blocks, colorful stacking rings, and a plush animal or two, were scattered across the carpet.

In the far corner of the room, a playpen, its sides lined with soft padding and filled with an assortment of toys and blankets, sat beside a small rocking horse, its polished wood gleaming in the light.

The air carried a faint, comforting scent of lavender and baby powder. Every detail, from the embroidered curtains to the tiny nightlight shaped like a crescent moon, spoke of the love Daddy had poured into creating this sanctuary for them.

Hannah pulled her thumb from her mouth, her gaze darting between the cribs and the play area. Her heart swelled at the obvious thought and effort Daddy had put into the nursery, but it also brought a blush to her cheeks. This wasn’t just a room; it was a declaration of their roles, a place that left no room for the illusion of independence. The nursery seemed to spring forth from her deepest desires, yet the idea it represented left Hannah conflicted.

Daddy smiled down at them, his voice soft and full of pride. “I wanted it to be perfect for you both,” he said, his eyes glimmering with warmth. “I hope you like it.”

Hannah nodded, her blush deepening as she buried her face in his chest. Standing beside them, Emily folded her arms across her chest, her expression neutral but her lips twitching into a faint smile.

“It’s… a lot,” Emily said finally, her tone careful, but there was no mistaking the glint of appreciation in her eyes as she glanced at the mural.

Daddy chuckled, his voice rich with affection. “Only the best for my girls,” he said, stepping further into the room with Hannah still in his arms. “Now, let’s get you both ready to settle in.”

Daddy guided Emily to the reading nook, where she settled into the cushioned armchair with a quiet sigh. She tucked her legs beneath her, her fingers brushing against the spines of the books on the low shelf beside her, though her gaze lingered on Daddy and Hannah.

With practiced ease, Daddy carried Hannah to the changing table, his arms steady and secure. He gently laid her down, her small frame sinking into the soft, padded surface of the table. Hannah’s cheeks flushed immediately as he began to strip her down, removing her shirt and pants until she lay there in just her diaper. The faint crinkle of the plastic padding filled the quiet room, a sound that made her blush deepen.

“Daddy,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she averted her gaze.

But Daddy didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment—or if he did, he didn’t comment. Instead, he paused, his hands resting lightly on her diaper as he admired the design. “You know,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, “this is incredible. Look at this. They make the cutest diapers for Littles on Earth.”

Hannah giggled nervously, her blush spreading down her neck. “It’s not as good as the ones in the Diaper Dimension,” she admitted, her voice shy but tinged with amusement. “But we do have some cute designs back home.”

Daddy chuckled, his deep laugh filling the room as he gently ran his fingers over the diaper’s surface. “I can see that,” he said. “Still, I think this one suits you perfectly.”

With a practiced motion, he popped the tabs and carefully removed the diaper, folding it neatly to the side. He grabbed a wipe from the stocked shelf and began to clean her, his touch gentle and methodical. Despite her embarrassment, Hannah couldn’t deny the comfort in his care, even as the heat in her cheeks persisted.

Once she was clean, Daddy reached the shelves and pulled another diaper down. He smiled and held it toward her, letting her see the design. The diaper was undeniably adorable—a pristine white base adorned with a whimsical pattern of pastel-colored rainbows, fluffy clouds, and smiling suns. The tapes were bright yellow, shaped like tiny stars, adding to the cheerful aesthetic.

The material felt soft yet sturdy as Daddy adjusted it in his hands, the faint crinkle a reminder of its protective layers. The padding was plush, thicker than the standard disposable diapers Hannah had seen back on Earth, though still thinner than the premium ones from the Diaper Dimension. It had a comforting weight to it, the kind of padding that promised security and softness in equal measure.

“Look at this,” Daddy said, holding it up for her to see. “This one’s perfect for my little sunshine.”

Hannah giggled again, squirming slightly on the changing pad. The tactile memory of the diaper’s thickness was already familiar, the soft, quilted interior designed to wick away moisture while cradling her with its gentle embrace. The outer shell was smooth and slightly cool, and the cheerful design made it feel less clinical and more playful—an endearing and somewhat mortifying touch.

“It’s cute,” she admitted softly, her voice muffled as she pressed her hands over her face, peeking at him through her fingers.

Daddy smiled warmly and unfolded the diaper with a practiced motion. “Cute and practical,” he agreed, taking her ankles in his hand and lifting her, sliding it under her easily. The faint rustle of the padding made her cheeks heat up again as he secured the tape snugly around her waist.

“There we go,” Daddy said, his voice filled with satisfaction as he gave the front of the diaper a light pat. “All set.”

Hannah squirmed slightly, the thick padding forcing her legs apart as she adjusted to the familiar bulk. The soft interior and secure fit brought an unexpected sense of comfort, even as the blush on her cheeks refused to fade. She looked up at Daddy, his warm smile reassuring her so that embarrassment felt a little more manageable.

Daddy ran his hand lightly over the front of Hannah’s freshly taped diaper, smoothing the cheerful design into place. “So,” he said with a warm smile, looking down at her. “How does it feel, sweetheart?”

Hannah wiggled slightly, her hands brushing against the soft padding. The thickness made her legs splay slightly, but the plush, quilted interior cradled her in an undeniably comfortable way. “It feels good,” she admitted shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Very soft and comfortable. Way better than what I was wearing before.”

Daddy chuckled at her honesty, his laughter deep and affectionate. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “I’ll have to stock up on more in your size.”

Her cheeks flushed as she looked up at him, a small flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “What size am I?” she asked hesitantly.

Daddy’s smile widened, a playful glint in his eye. “You’re a size 2 in Little diapers,” he said. “Basically, a newborn.”

Hannah’s jaw dropped slightly, her blush deepening as she stared at him in disbelief. “A newborn?” she squeaked, her voice laced with embarrassment. Even by Little standards, the thought of being so small spun her mind.

Daddy’s chuckle was soft as he reached for a onesie from the shelf beside the changing table. The garment was pastel pink with frilly white edging at the sleeves and collar, and a cartoon bunny was embroidered on the chest. “Don’t worry, peanut,” he said reassuringly, pulling it gently over her head. “You’re my newborn, and that’s all that matters.”

Hannah didn’t have time to protest as he guided her arms through the sleeves, snapping the buttons into place between her legs. The snug fit of the onesie pressed the diaper comfortably against her, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the bulky padding. Before she could process her feelings, Daddy clipped a pacifier to the front of her onesie with a matching ribbon, the soft click drawing her attention.

He held the pacifier up, offering it with a warm smile. “Here you go, sweetheart,” he said. “Something to help my little girl relax.”

Hannah hesitated momentarily before taking the pacifier and popping it into her mouth. The familiar comfort of the pacifier was immediate, and the soft rubber nipple soothed her as she began to nurse. Her embarrassment faded just enough to let her focus on the gentle rhythm, and her small hands clutched the front of her onesie as Daddy unbuckled her from the changing table.

He lifted her effortlessly, cradling her against his chest as he turned toward the wall. “I want to show you something,” he said, his tone light but tinged with amusement.

Hannah blinked, her curiosity piqued as she followed his gaze. A sticker chart was above the changing table, mounted neatly on the wall. The colorful grid was divided into days of the week, with two columns marked—one for her and one for Emily. The chart sparkled with star-shaped stickers in various colors.

Daddy picked up a sheet of stickers from the shelf, peeling off a gold star and pressing it carefully into Hannah’s column for the current day. “This,” he explained, “is how I’ll keep track of your progress.”

Hannah tilted her head slightly, her brows furrowing as she nursed her pacifier. “Progress?” she mumbled around it.

Daddy nodded, his smile softening. “Specifically, how many wet and messy diapers you both have,” he said. “It’s part of the guidelines Miranda mentioned. Each of you must have at least one messy diaper a day.”

Hannah’s eyes widened, her cheeks crimson as she stared at the chart. “One a day?” she asked, her voice muffled but incredulous.

Daddy chuckled, his free hand patting her gently on the back. “That’s right, peanut,” he said. “It’s all part of the Little Care Act. But don’t worry—I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

Hannah buried her face against his chest, her embarrassment returning full force. The thought of having such a personal aspect of her life tracked so openly made her squirm, but Daddy’s soothing presence eased the worst of her nerves. He kissed the top of her head, his arms holding her securely as he glanced toward Emily, still seated in the reading nook.

“Ready to see how this works for you, too?” he asked with a playful grin, shifting slightly to include Emily in the conversation.

Hannah felt the soft foam mat cushion her hands and knees as Daddy gently placed her in the play area. She settled among the pile of plush toys, her fingers absently brushing over a fuzzy bunny’s long ears as she adjusted herself to sit. The comfort of the mat and the familiarity of the stuffies eased her nerves slightly, though her gaze remained fixed on Daddy and Emily.

Quietly observing from the reading nook, Emily nodded sheepishly at Daddy’s question. She stood and approached him, her posture hesitant but willing. Daddy greeted her with a warm smile, his large hands steady as he lifted her effortlessly onto the changing table.

“All right, Emily,” he said softly, his tone still kind but less playful than it had been with Hannah. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

Emily blushed faintly but said nothing, allowing him to guide her into position. His hands moved with practiced efficiency as he began to strip her, removing her shirt and pants with ease. The cool air brushing against her skin made her shiver slightly, but she stayed still, her cheeks tinged pink as she watched him work.

Unlike with Hannah, Daddy didn’t tease or coo over her as he removed her diaper and cleaned her up. His care was still evident in his gentle touch and steady hands, but there was a quiet respect in his demeanor that Emily appreciated. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of her size, demeanor, or something else, but she was grateful for the difference.

The diaper Daddy retrieved for Emily was noticeably larger than the one he had used for Hannah, which was more fitting of a toddler. It was decorated with pastel-colored polka dots and tiny, smiling animals—playful without overly babyish. He easily slid it under her, securing the tapes snugly but comfortably.

“There we go,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring as he lightly patted the front of the diaper. “All set.”

Emily shifted slightly, adjusting to the familiar bulk of the padding. It wasn’t as thick as the ones from their last trip to the Diaper Dimension, but it was more than adequate, providing comfort and a gentle reminder of her role here.

Daddy reached for a simple dress he had laid out earlier—a soft, lilac-colored garment with a Peter pan collar and a small embroidered flower near the hem. He guided it over Emily’s head, helping her arms through the sleeves before smoothing it down over her diaper.

“There,” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Simple and cute. Perfect for you.”

Emily blushed again but managed a shy smile as she glanced down at the dress. It was undeniably pretty, and the soft fabric was comfortable against her skin.

Daddy turned to the sticker chart on the wall, picking up a silver star from the nearby sheet. With a deliberate motion, he placed it in Emily’s column for the current day, his expression one of quiet pride. “Your first sticker,” he said with a gentle smile. “And plenty more to come.”

Emily nodded faintly, her fingers brushing over the skirt of her dress as she processed the moment. Her eyes flicked to Hannah, who was nestled among the pile of stuffies in the play area, watching with wide, curious eyes. Emily gave her a small smile, her expression a mix of acceptance and quiet resolve.

“All done,” Daddy said, his hands resting lightly on Emily’s shoulders as he looked down at her. “Ready to join your sister?”

Emily nodded again, letting him lift her from the table and set her on the ground. She briefly adjusted her balance before following Daddy to the play area, where Hannah waited. The tension in the room had eased slightly, replaced by a sense of calm as the two girls settled into their new roles under Daddy’s watchful care.

Daddy knelt beside the girls, his towering presence softened by the warmth in his gaze. His eyes met Emily’s first, then shifted to Hannah, still nursing her pacifier. Her small hands clutched a plush bunny from the play area, and the rhythmic motion of her nursing soothed her.

With a deep breath, Daddy rested his hands lightly on his knees. “All right, girls,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with a gentleness that told them this wasn’t an easy conversation for him. “There’s something I need to explain—part of what’s required under the Little Care Act.”

Emily straightened slightly, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her dress as she prepared herself for whatever he was about to say. Beside her, Hannah tilted her head, her pacifier bobbing softly as she nursed, her brow furrowing in curiosity.

“As part of your care,” Daddy continued, his gaze shifting between them, “you’ll both need to be fed from bottles. It’s... it’s a requirement that fits your new age.”

Hannah’s cheeks flushed faintly, her pacifier stilling momentarily before resuming its gentle rhythm. Emily’s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression carefully neutral as she processed the information. Neither of them was entirely surprised, but hearing it said aloud brought a new level of reality to the situation. They had been practicing well before their trip to the dimension, yet hearing it put so bluntly that they had no choice in made things all real.

Daddy glanced away briefly, his expression faltering for the first time. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by something almost vulnerable—embarrassment, perhaps, or reluctance. When he looked back at them, a flicker of apology was in his eyes.

“There’s… something else,” he said hesitantly, his voice lowering slightly. “Something I need to tell you about my agreement with the Amazon government.”

Both girls tensed, their gazes locking onto him with renewed focus. Emily’s fingers curled into the fabric of her dress while Hannah clutched her bunny a little tighter, her pacifier bobbing faster.

“They’re aware,” Daddy said slowly, carefully choosing his words, “of the serum that’s made you nearly immune to hypnotic messaging.”

Emily’s eyes widened slightly, and Hannah’s pacifier slipped from her mouth, dangling from its ribbon as she stared up at him in alarm.

Daddy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “As part of my agreement to have you here,” he continued, “they’ve tasked me with an… experiment.”

“Experiment?” Emily echoed, her voice sharper than she intended, her tone edged with disbelief.

Daddy nodded, his expression filled with reluctant resignation. “They want to test the limits of the serum. To see how far your immunity goes, and whether it can be... overcome.”

Hannah’s heart pounded in her chest, and her grip on her bunny tightened as she glanced at Emily, who looked equally uneasy. The tension in the room grew palpable, and the cheerful play area suddenly felt suffocating.

Daddy hesitated before delivering the final piece of the puzzle. “To that end,” he said softly, almost apologetically, “after your bottles, you’ll watch an episode of Naomi and Oliver.”

Hannah’s stomach dropped, and Emily’s breath hitched audibly. The children’s show was infamous for its deeply ingrained hypnotic messaging, designed to mold Littles into compliant, babyish behavior patterns. The thought of sitting through even a single episode made Hannah’s skin crawl.

“You can’t be serious,” Emily said, her voice trembling with disbelief and frustration.

Daddy’s expression was pained, his shoulders slumping slightly as he nodded. “I wish I weren’t,” he admitted. “But this isn’t negotiable. It’s part of the agreement, and... it’s the only way I could ensure you’d be allowed back here.”

Hannah’s mind raced. The warmth and safety she had felt just moments ago seemed to vanish, replaced by a gnawing sense of vulnerability. Emily’s jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides as she struggled to control her emotions.

“I’ll be here the whole time,” Daddy added quickly, his voice firm but soothing. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. And if anything seems off, we’ll stop immediately.”

His words were meant to reassure, but the unease in the girls’ expressions remained. Hannah’s heart ached as she looked at him, seeing the weight of his guilt and the genuine care in his eyes. He didn’t want this any more than they did—that was clear. But the constraints of their situation left them with no choice.

After a long, tense silence, Hannah reached for her pacifier, slipping it back into her mouth and nursing quietly. Emily sighed heavily, her gaze dropping to the floor as she nodded reluctantly. They didn’t like it, but they understood. This was the price of their return, and for better or worse, they had agreed to it. Hannah glimpsed a look of shame on Daddy’s face, his eyes cast down, unable to meet their gaze before straightening, “I’ll go get your bottles.” he said, turning and leaving the room.