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aerequets · 2 years

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anya's big little sibling conundrum

posted on ao3

summary: Anya is excited about the fact that she's going to be an older sibling, until George spins a different tale. Now she can't stop fearing the worst. Luckily, she has friends and parents to remind her that she isn't going anywhere.

a/n: it's common for only children to get jealous when a new kid is on the way. although this isn't exactly anya being jealous, it's more like her being insecure. i think she would be, since she's been returned four times already (😔) but luckily she has GOOD PARENTS to remind her that that's never happening 😤 also hopefully the kids sound like kids but like idk how 7-8 year olds speak so we'll just have to deal with it ig LMAO

also just a few things:

-this is set 2 years later, so the kids at eden are 8 (anya is 7) -loid and yor are together-together; they told each other about their secret occupations, but not anya yet, because she's really young. (obvs she already knows though)

Anya was going to be an older sister.

It was a fact she’d been announcing around school ever since she’d found out. Or, more accurately, ever since her parents had decided to tell her last week. It would be bad if she was announcing Mama’s pregnancy without ever having been told. Despite the fact that a lot of the kids at school were rich and snooty and laughed at her for doing ‘commoner’ things, a younger sibling was something many of them didn’t have—and something that money couldn’t buy. Sometimes classmates she hardly talked to would come up to her and ask about it.

Anya couldn’t lie—she was relishing in the attention a little bit.

Becky had been thrilled, then devastated for a brief spell (“My Loid”, she’d sobbed), but ultimately she was almost as happy as Anya. “I’m a little jealous,” she admitted. “I’d love to have a little baby sister I could dress up. We have to go shopping for clothes.”

“We don’t know if I’ll have a sister or a brother,” Anya pointed out. Becky blinked, as if it hadn’t even occurred to her that the baby might be a boy.

“We can still go shopping,” she contended. “All baby clothes are cute! There’s gotta be gender-neutral clothes too.” She went on to detail the ways in which infant fashion was, in fact, a great industry with much to offer.

Anya hummed along, but truthfully, her mind wasn’t on clothes. She was thinking of all the cool games she’d play with her sibling. They could be an agent recruit in her spy game! She’d show them cool things like silenced-pistols and hideout spots in their home. They’d share peanuts and watch Spy Wars together. And, of course, Anya would have someone to regale with the tales of her super-cool heroic deeds.

Anya snapped back to attention when Becky’s voice turned sour. “Ugh, not them again.”

She didn’t have to look at the approaching posse to see who Becky was referring to. Even though they were in year 3 now—much older, cooler, and more mature in Becky’s own words—Anya hadn’t gotten much closer to Damian. They fought less, but they also weren’t on house-visiting level yet. It was more like a truce than a friendship, but hey. She hadn’t punched him in two whole years. That had to count for something.

“Look who it is.” Ewen was the first one to speak up, a smirk pulling at his face. “Forger and Blackbell. I bet you two were talking about something stupid, like always.”

“We were actually talking about baby clothes,” Becky shot back. It had been more of a one-sided conversation, but Anya didn’t mention that. “Since Anya is gonna be a big sister.”

“We know, you’ve only told us a bajillion times,” Emile said, rolling his eyes. “Big deal.”

“Damian’s big brother is perfect. That’s why Damian is perfect too,” Ewen added, gesturing to the boy standing in the middle of their trio. Damian stayed silent and impassive while Ewen went on. “You better clean up your act or you’ll screw up the kid before they even enter school.”

“I’m gonna be a great big sister,” Anya retorted. “I’ll play with them all the time and share my toys and candy. And give them important life or death advice!”

Emile tsked. “I feel bad for the poor child already. Right, Damian?”

Damian looked haughty as ever, fists stuffed in his pant pockets, but he didn’t agree right away. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Demetrius had done that stuff with me, he thought. Anya’s eyes widened.

“What’re you looking at?” Was what came out of his mouth instead when he caught Anya staring. “Sheesh. The first thing you should teach the kid is that staring all bug-eyed is creepy.”

With that, the trio sauntered off, leaving behind a disgusted Becky and a shocked Anya. Bug-eyed?!

“Whatever, don’t mind them,” Becky huffed. “I know you’ll be a great sister.”

“Thanks,” Anya said warmly. Sometimes she thought about how lucky she was to have Becky as a friend. At that moment, George walked by, stopping when he saw them.

“I heard about your baby sibling,” he said. Anya puffed up.

“Yep, I’m gonna be a—”

“I’m sorry,” George sighed. Anya froze mid-sentence.

“Huh? What for?”

“What? You don’t know?” George turned his face up to the sky and, at that moment, a breeze ruffled by, exemplifying the melancholy expression on his face. “Why…your life as you know it is about to end.”

“WHAT?!” Anya hadn’t heard about anything like that. Was the baby going to kill her once it came?! But surely she’d win, right? She’d done Mama’s special training. But—no, wait. Anya balked. The baby was inside Mama. Did that mean it had her strength, too?! Anya’s head spun as she imagined a swole baby. She might just lose her life.

“Stop talking nonsense,” Becky snapped, dragging Anya out of her reverie. “What do you mean, her life will end?”

“You wouldn’t know, since you’re an only child,” George replied. “But I do. I got a baby sister last year.”

They’d heard about it. George, normally gloomy and sighing about his lack of a social life, had actually been excited and chatty leading up to the birth of his sister, just like Anya was now. “We know,” Becky said. “Congratula—”

“Don’t congratulate me!” George screeched, suddenly all up in their faces. Becky yelped and leapt back. “I was just like you. A fool, a clown, prancing around—” Anya took great offense to that. “—telling anyone that would listen that I was gonna be an older sibling. But do you know what being an older sibling entails?”

It was silent for a few seconds before Anya realized George’s question wasn’t rhetorical. “Um, no?”

“You become second place.” The fire that had lit in George suddenly died as he wilted, shoulders slouching. “Suddenly there’s an adorable baby. Who’s gonna pay attention to you when there’s the baby? Tell me, are there things you like to do with your parents?”

“Yeah!” The list was too long to fully recite, but Anya still prattled off, “Having teatime, playing spy, going to the park with Bond, doing picnics, watching Mama beat up bad guys, going in the secret doors in Papa’s office—”

“Get ready to give all that up,” George interrupted decisively. “Because there won’t be any time for that stuff anymore. It’s either gonna be feeding the baby, or changing the baby’s diaper, or putting the baby to sleep, or playing with the baby. No room for you in there.”

Anya’s jaw slackened in horror. Could it be true? She didn’t want to believe that her life with Mama and Papa would change like that. But… Her heart seized. But I’m adopted. Even Mama knew that fact now, ever since she and Papa had come clean to each other about everything (not that they knew that Anya knew). What if they liked the baby more, since it was actually theirs? What if they decided they didn’t need Anya anymore? Realistically, she knew her Mama and Papa would never do that. But anxiety was rolling through her stomach. They’d already started telling her that with the baby, a lot of big changes would come.

Was one of the changes going to be Anya becoming an outsider?

“Stop scaring her!” Becky scolded, looping a protective arm through Anya’s. “You’re such a downer, George.” With that barb, she dragged Anya away, muttering all the while about how stupid George didn’t know what he was talking about. “That’s not going to happen to you,” she told Anya, impassioned. “For one, my Loid does not discriminate. He’s not going to act all cold towards you just because there’s another kid. And Master Yor has a heart as open as the wide sea! She’s got enough space for a million kids, let alone just two.”

Even though Becky calling her parents “my Loid” and “Master Yor” still weirded her out, Anya was comforted by her best friend’s reassurance. Becky was right: Papa was the most just, level-headed person in the world. And Mama’s heart was the only thing as big and strong as her muscles. She felt her heart lighten up a little as relief filled her core. Everything was going to be fine.

Or so she thought, until she reached home later that day.

When she opened the door, she was met with the sight of Franky lounging on the sofa.

“Scruffy?” Anya asked as her Papa was entering the room. “Why are you here?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” he sniffed. He sounded discontent, although he looked awfully comfortable with a cup of coffee and a plate of snacks spread out before him. He turned to Loid. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a babysitter?!”

Loid ignored Franky and turned to Anya. He was pulling on his suit-jacket, the one he wore when going out. “Hey there. How was school?”

“Meh. It was the same as usual. But…” Anya considered asking him about what George had said, but decided against it. It was stupid, and Papa was about to leave anyways. ”Where are you going?”

“I’m picking up Yor from work early so we can go to the hospital,” he explained. “The doctor is going to check up on the baby’s growth.”

“Whoa. Can I come?”

Loud chuckled. “Unfortunately, it’s not exactly a thing you can bring a child to. It’s more between the parents, the doctor and the baby.” Anya felt a sting at that sentence. “Which is why Franky here generously offered to stay with you, as he often does.” Franky scoffed.

“Oh… um…” Anya floundered. “Can you help me with my math homework before dinner?”

Loid’s eyes widened. “You want to work on math?” When Anya nodded, a proud look crossed his face, one that Anya relished in. But the good feeling quickly dissipated when Loid sighed regretfully. “It might take some time at the hospital. We’re planning to be back by dinner. I’ll help you afterwards if there’s time.”

“Oh.” Anya swallowed dryly. She’d never been disappointed to not do math before. “Okay. Bye, Papa.”

He knelt down to hug her. He’d been doing that more often lately. Will he stop once the baby comes? Anya wondered. “Goodbye Anya,” he said, turning around to pin Franky with a stare. “Make sure you behave yourself.”

“Hey, why does it feel like you’re saying that to me?”

Loid got up, put his hat on, and departed with one final wave, leaving Anya and Franky in the living room.

“You know, I could help you with math too,” Franky said. “I’m a bit of an engineering genius myself.” Anya must not have done a good job of masking her unimpressed-ness, because Franky sat up straight with an incredibly offended look. “What’s that expression?! I’m offering to help you out here!”

“Why would I want to do math?” Anya asked. She decided to bum around in her room with Bond until her parents got back and left, leaving a flabbergasted Franky behind.

A few hours later, Anya heard the front door opening and rushed out of her room. “Mama! Papa! You’re back!”

“Hello, Anya!” Yor opened her arms and swept Anya into a tight hug. She noticed Franky in the living room and smiled at him. “Hello, Franky. Was everything alright?”

“Hey, Yor. Yeah, everything was fine.” As gruff as Franky was with Loid, he’d taken to being extra nice with Yor ever since he found out about her pregnancy. He said it was because he wasn’t going to risk his neck by invoking her (or Loid’s) wrath, but Anya had read his mind. He was excited about meeting the baby in the future. It was a fact that had made Anya laugh before, but now her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Would even Franky be forgetting about her in lieu of the baby?

“How’s the baby coming along?” Franky asked.

Yor and Loid exchanged a smile. “The fetus is about seven centimeters long now,” Yor said. “And the heartbeat is going strong.”

“How big is seven centimeters?” Anya asked. Loid thought for a few seconds before gesturing to her hand.

“It’s roughly the size of your fist,” he said. Anya clenched her hand and held it up. The baby was awfully small.

“Hmm. That’s good.” Franky’s stiff words were offset by the growing grin on his face. “Hey, now is the time to start thinking about names, isn’t it? I propose Franklin Junior. Very distinguished.”

Loid’s lip curled up in disgust while Yor laughed. “What if it’s a girl?”

“Frankette. Frankina. There’s lots of options.”

“Shouldn’t you get going?” Loid asked. Clearly he wasn’t going to risk the chances of Yor actually liking Franky’s suggestions. “It’s getting late.”

“Wow. You’ll have me over three times a week to babysit but I can’t stay for five minutes on my own?”

“You could join us for dinner,” Yor offered. Franky’s scowl eased into a smile as he turned to her.

“Nah, I was just kidding. Besides, I have got a hot date tonight.” He gathered up his things and patted Anya’s head. “Bye, kid. Enjoy your dinner. And I’m raising my rates for babysitting from here on out!” With that, he slammed the door shut. Loid rolled his eyes.

“Always a handful,” he grumbled. His face melted into a warm smile as he turned to Yor, though. He’d started doing that even before they had told each other their secrets. “I made roasted vegetables earlier today. Do you think you can eat some of that?”

Yor nodded, resting a hand on her stomach. She was only a little over 3 months along, so her coat still covered the small bump. Papa said the bump would get bigger and bigger until it was the size of a watermelon—Anya couldn’t imagine that. “I think those will be good. My body doesn’t reject them as much, at least.” Yor had been suffering morning sickness for the past few weeks. The doctor said it was normal, but Loid still tried finding foods that would make her as less sick as possible.

They sat down to eat dinner. They all talked to each other like usual, but Anya could read their minds and tell that they were thinking about the baby, too.

We could convert the unused bedroom into a nursery, Papa thought. I’ve seen magazines and some parents do themes for the rooms, like nautical, or astronomical. Not to mention, some colors like subtle blues relax the body and mind. Something desaturated and pastel would be best to aid the baby’s comfort and growth to the fullest…

I wonder if we could use Loid’s old bedroom as a nursery, Mama was thinking at the same time. We could do cute decorations for the baby! Like knives… oh, that’s not very child-safe. Some well-contained poisons, then? A couple splashes of red on the wall for color-pop…

Anya shivered. She didn’t really get it—the baby was hardly the size of a tennis ball right now! She couldn’t even read its mind because it didn’t have any thoughts yet. But Mama and Papa were already thinking about its room, and how they would decorate it, and what names would be good if it was a girl or a boy.

George was right. Things had been changing under her nose and she hadn’t even noticed. Where did that leave her now?

“Anya?” She jumped and looked up to see her parents watching her in concern. Yor cocked her head. “Are you alright? You haven’t eaten much.”

“I…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to complain and sound like an immature little kid—after all, she was eight now (technically seven, but that was irrelevant)—and put them off. She would have to ask George what to do at school tomorrow.

“I don’t like carrots,” she said instead, pushing them aside on her plate.

“You should eat them,” Loid chided. “Carrots are good for you.”

“I think your little sibling may like them, too,” Yor said, a faint note of surprise in her voice as she had another piece. She hummed as if it were gourmet steak. “Oh! That’s good.” Anya wrinkled her nose. Of course the baby liked carrots.

“Are we looking at a carrot craving?” Loid asked teasingly. “I have to say, it’s better than olives dipped in jam.”

“That was just for a couple days,” Yor said, cheeks stuffed with carrots and reddening. “Don’t bash it till you try it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, leaning his chin on his hands. Anya could detect the sappiness entering their voices (and minds) and quickly shoveled the rest of her potatoes into her mouth. “Mmkay I’ma go now!”

She had to figure out what to do, and quickly.

…

The next day at school, Anya spent lunch break looking for George. She didn’t think it would be hard before, but she’d neglected to remember that 1) Eden’s campus was massive, 2) she was tiny and getting around took forever, and 3) George was a recluse, which meant he wasn’t in any of the places she checked first.

Becky, bless her heart, was accompanying Anya on her search. Anya hadn’t told her why she wanted to meet with George, but after a while Becky frowned.

“Hey, you aren’t still bothered by what he said yesterday, right?”

Anya froze in the middle of checking underneath a rock. Could Becky read minds too?! “Uhh… nooo?”

Becky sighed. “I knew his words would bother you. He’s not right, you know.”

“You don’t get it!” Anya burst out. “I didn’t notice before, but the baby is all Mama and Papa think about. We don’t do stuff like before now. I even asked Papa to help me with math—which he loooves when I do—but there wasn’t time for even that! What if they already like the baby more than me?”

“Of course things are going to be different now that there’s a baby. That’s not a bad thing,” Becky soothed. “And they’re not gonna like the baby more. You’re their child, too!”

But I’m adopted. Anya bit her tongue. Nobody else knew that except for their family. Nobody else knew that Anya had been returned four times already because those other parents hadn’t liked her enough. She couldn’t lose this life she had now to the same thing. The very thought of it brought tears to her eyes.

“Oh, Anya!” Becky rushed forward, handkerchief already in hand. “Don’t cry…!”

“Ugh. I’ve seen enough of this,” a far-off voice muttered. The girls turned to see Damian stomping out from behind a pillar, looking incensed, with Ewen and Emile trailing close behind.

“Damian?” Becky was aghast. “Were you stalking us?”

“N-NO!” He yelled. “I just saw you two—running around looking for—and—ARGH!” He facepalmed. “Anyways, I just happened to hear what you guys said.”

“So you were stalking and eavesdropping?!”

“That’s not the point!” Damian snapped. He rounded on Anya, one finger outstretched. “You’re being totally stupid!”

“Wuh?” Anya sniffed. She couldn’t recall doing anything to make Damian this mad at her. At least, not yet. “What’s with you?”

“What’s with me? You’re the one taking George’s words seriously and crying about it!” he retorted. “Everyone knows that guy’s a total drama-queen.”

“But-but he was right,” Anya said, voice wobbling. “The baby isn’t even born yet and… and Mama and Papa are already way busier than before.”

“Well, duh! If you’re growing a whole human, then things are gonna change for everyone around you.” Well, when he put it like that, Anya couldn’t even argue back. “You don’t even have to do anything for your parents to love you,” he continued. “And you won’t have to do anything special after the baby is born, either. They’ll love you anyways.” He scuffed the ground with his shoe. “That’s just what your parents are like.”

I’m the youngest kid, and I’m nowhere near the favorite, he thought bitterly. So clearly it’s not a rule for parents to prefer the second kid.

Anya stalled as she watched Damian. His words were relieving in their truth, sharp-tongued as they were, but his thoughts hurt to hear. All of the things she’d been fearing for the past day were things Damian already went through. She really was lucky. Mama always made sure to give her lots of hugs and she always protected her from bad guys. Papa, even when he didn’t show it, was proud of her for the good things she did. They talked to her and laughed with her and took her places. Her Mama and Papa were nothing like Damian’s parents.

She wished his weren’t the way they were, either.

“Sy-on boy…” Anya was considering risking her life and giving him a hug (hugs always made her feel better, after all) when they heard approaching footsteps. All of them turned to see George, timely as ever.

“Ah, Anya!” He waved. “I was looking for you.”

“What? Why?” Becky was in front of Anya in a flash, glowering. “Are you gonna put more trash in her head?”

“Yeah, back off,” Damian said, much to Anya’s surprise. But George held his hands up, placating.

“Actually, I came to tell you I changed my mind about the sibling thing.”

Anya was too confused to even read his mind on this one. “...what?”

“You see, there was this action figure I wanted, but my parents got my sister a doll instead,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “But they gave it to me today and said it was a surprise. So siblings aren’t really all that bad.”

It was silent. A breeze sent a few leaves twirling by as they all stared at George. Then—united for maybe the first time in all their years at Eden—Anya, Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen turned around and walked away together.

“Hey, where are you guys going?”

“Total drama queen, like I said,” Damian muttered. At this point their lunch break was almost over. Anya felt a little embarrassed for wasting her (and, inadvertently, everyone else’s) time with such a silly problem. Despite that, though, she felt more relieved than she had been in the past 24 hours. Mama and Papa weren’t going to get rid of her. If Damian could see that, it must be really obvious.

It was when Becky got in a heated argument with Emile and Ewen about tanks that Damian, walking kind-of-next-to Anya but a little too distanced for them to be considered walking together, cleared his throat.

“You should talk to your parents,” he said. “About what you told Becky, I mean. There’s no point in keeping that stuff to yourself.”

Anya tilted her head as she considered him. He was staring at the ground as they walked. She couldn’t figure him out, and his thoughts weren’t clear enough to be of any help. “Why do you care, Sy-on boy?” she asked, out of genuine curiosity rather than as a jab.

His head snapped up at that. Anya could practically (and literally) hear him pushing down the urge to pick a fight. Instead, he gritted his teeth, then sighed. “It’s what I would do,” he admitted, “if I had the chance. You’re lucky.”

She knew that she was lucky. Throwing all caution to the wind, Anya crossed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug.

As far as hugs went, it was pretty awkward. Mostly because he’d gone so rigid that it felt like she was hugging a mannequin. When she pulled back, his face was so red—practically exploding with anger!—that she instantly regretted her actions. Would he put her in jail for touching him? What if she had to spend the rest of her life paying off the debt from touching his rich-person clothes (they all had the same uniform, but still)?! She had to deflect his attention!

“You should come to my house when the baby is born,” she blurted.

He said nothing. When she peeked into his mind, it was empty. How could it be totally empty? Was this what people meant when they said blind with rage?

“Pink tanks are equally as functional, if not more!” Becky’s voice, growing in volume, floated over to her. “Who’s gonna look at a pink tank and expect actual damage? It’s a sneak attack in your face. It’s a Trojan horse! I’m not wasting time on this anymore!” She stomped back to Anya and grabbed her wrist. “Come on. It’s a total mistake to think these idiots could actually hold a good opinion,” she huffed.

Anya heard it when Becky had already dragged her a few paces away from the boys. It was quiet, and could have easily been lost in the surrounding noise, but she heard Damian say it nonetheless.

“Okay.”

…

When Anya got home that day, both Mama and Papa were sitting in the living room. It was a little surprising since she hadn’t seen both of them at the same time this early in the day for a while now. On top of that, it looked like they’d been waiting for her from the way they both got quiet upon her arrival.

“I’m home?” Her statement came out like a question from her confusion. “Is something happening?”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Loid said, angling his head towards the sofa. Warily, Anya approached. She wished Bond was in the room so she could take a peek into the future.

“Uhh…am I in trouble? I swear I didn’t mean to break the green bowl! It was an accident!”

“You’re not in—wait, that was you?” Loid squinted at her. Anya laughed a little too loudly and scrambled onto the sofa.

“So what’s going on?”

Loid relented and traded a look with Yor. Anya could hear snippets of their thoughts, but couldn’t make any sense of them. Talk to her…recently been feeling…developing…killing anyone who dares harm…efficient communication… It probably didn’t help that their wildly different thoughts were jumbling together.

“We’ve noticed that you’re a little down recently,” Yor said. “And we were worried about you.”

Anya felt a pang of guilt at those words. They had worried about her. She almost decided not to tell them what had brought her down because it felt even sillier now, but Damian’s words floated into her head. There’s no point in keeping that stuff to yourself. It’s what I would do if I had the chance. He was right—Anya could bottle it all up and get worried about it again in the future. Or she could confess to her parents and hear what she needed to hear from them.

“Um… well, the thing is…” Anya felt awkward looking at their faces while confessing possibly the most embarrassing thing she’d done this year, so she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap instead. “See, George at school, he got a baby sister last year. And he told me that once a baby is born the first kid gets forgotten about. He said it becomes about the new baby and there’s no time to do fun stuff with your parents anymore. And I kinda remembered how you were always so busy, even though the baby is, like, only as big as my hand right now.” She was rambling, but was met with silence, so she continued. It was actually a little relieving to spill it all out. “So I got scared… because… I’m adopted and I thought once the baby was born you might not want me anymo—”

Anya found herself suddenly yanked into a solid, warm embrace. When she reoriented herself, she realized her Mama had wound her arms around her, one hand on the back of her head. Warm drops plipped onto her head and Anya realized that Mama was crying.

“That will never happen,” she whispered, kissing the top of Anya’s head. “Oh, Anya. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Even more embarrassingly, Anya felt a lump in her throat. “Because it’s stupid. And I know you and Papa wouldn’t do that. But I got scared by what George said anyways.”

A third, warm hand smoothed down her hair. Papa was sitting next to them now. “Your feelings aren’t stupid,” he said softly. “I was thinking about how we might not have properly gotten you used to the idea of having a sibling. But you handled everything so maturely.”

Anya didn’t think freaking out at George’s dramatics and crying in front of her friends was very mature, but Papa’s praise made warmth bloom in her chest anyways. “I was?”

“You were excited about your sibling before anything else.” Yor slightly eased her hold on Anya. The girl leaned back to see both of her parents beaming down at her. “Do you know why this baby is going to be an extremely lucky child?”

“Because they’ll have you and Mama for parents,” she replied, remembering Damian’s words again. You’re lucky.

“And you as a big sister. You’re going to be an exemplary role model, Anya.”

“...I am?” Anya blinked. “Even with my grades… and my bolts?”

“Yes. Because those things don’t make a person.” Papa poked her chest. “You have a big heart, Anya. You do what’s right and you care about the right things, too. I believe the baby will flourish under your guidance.”

“We’ll always love you, Anya,” Yor added. “No matter what. And your little sibling will, too.”

Anya felt like her heart would overflow. Her Mama and Papa couldn’t undo all the times she’d been returned, but for the first time Anya was grateful that she hadn’t stayed with the Levskis, the Williams, the Roches, or anyone else.

Because then she would have never been a Forger.

“I’ll tell you everything from now on,” she promised, voice muffled by Yor’s sweater. “I promise.”

“Good.” They stayed like that for a while, the three of them wrapped up, and at some point Bond woke up from his nap in the other room and came over to join them.

Anya got a fuzzy glimpse of the future from the dog. It looked like she, Mama and Papa were out shopping somewhere, pushing a shopping cart. They were looking at different baby toys.

Anya was excited. She’d make sure to pick out the best toy for the baby.

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