I obeyed him automatically.
The flavors were better than I remembered. Maybe it was just that I hadn’t eaten properly in so long, or maybe it was the way he watched to make sure I was okay, but every bite made me feel steadier.
Walker made his own and ate standing up, leaning on the counter. The domesticity of it—the two of us in his kitchen, himwatching out for me like it was the most normal thing in the world—was dangerous. Too easy to pretend this was forever, not just a one-week experiment in seeing if I could be someone’s Little girl.
But I wanted it. I wanted it so badly my chest hurt, even as I knew it couldn’t last because good things never did.
Chapter twelve
Lottie
Abby and her Daddy Gideon were waiting for us just inside the lobby.
She looked exactly like I remembered seeing her from Salvation—her hair in puffy braids, cartoon overalls with a bunny patch, the kind of happy, fidgety energy that filled the whole hallway before her mouth even opened. She bounced on her toes as soon as she saw me, clapping her hands.
“Ohmygosh, I'm so happy to see you again!” Her voice was so bright it nearly echoed. “Daddy said you might come but I didn’t want to get my hopes up! Hi!” She hugged me before I had time to panic, squeezed tight, then let go just as quickly.
I almost fell over. Walker steadied me with a hand at my back. “Easy,” he said, and for some reason that made Abby giggle.
I was still stunned I’d agreed to come. But as Walker had said, it was Thursday and Little night. My blood sugar had been perfect all day and to be honest I was quite excited.
“She’s so small just like me,” Abby whispered, like it was a compliment, not a problem, and I giggled. Abby was the same height as me. Then she grabbed my hand and just started leading me down the hallway. “Salvation is the best on Thursdays! Did you see the balloons? There’s a special theme in the Little Room tonight, but if you don’t wanna dress up you don’t have to, promise.”
I nodded, excited but completely out of my depth. “I…um…I like your hair.”
She spun, braids flying. “You do? Daddy did it for me after my bath. He says it makes me look extra cute.” She beamed, then peered at the pink scrunchie in my ponytail and the sparkle clips. “Your hair looks adorable! Did Walker help?”
I shook my head. “I just…did it myself.” He’d offered but it had felt weird. Now I wish he had done it.
She made an impressed sound, like I’d just solved a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. “You’re really good at it. Come see the playroom? There’s coloring and crafts and snacks, and if you get tired there’s a nap corner.” She showed me the cubbies for my shoes then lowered her voice, glancing up at her Daddy, “And there’s a train to ride.” Gideon smiled indulgently.
Walker just looked at me, waiting. Letting me choose. I nodded, clinging to Mr. Snuggles like he was a lifeline.
Inside, the Littles’ playroom was even bigger and brighter than I remembered—a riot of soft colors and beanbags and tables loaded with crafts. There was a faint background of kids’ music and the smell of markers and sugar cookies. There were Littles everywhere, some sprawling on the floor, some perched at the coloring tables. Most in cute clothes, a few with stuffies orblankets. And she was right, a train chugged in a circle around the play mat. A train with seats, full of laughing Littles.
Abby pulled me to a table covered in sticker sheets and coloring books. “This is my favorite spot. The light is the best right here. Did you eat dinner? If not, we can get Walker to bring us something. He’s really good at snacks.”
I blinked. “No, I’m okay for now.” Walker had been insistent on my sugar check and my dinner, but I wasn’t ready to share that with Abby. I glanced around in awe; the room made me feel less like a grownup and more like…like the version of me I’d only ever imagined.
“You want to color with me?” Abby plopped into a beanbag, grabbing a page with kittens on it. “Or you can just hang out and watch, or play with the train, or just listen.” Abby dumped the coloring page and a cup of markers in front of me, then squished herself sideways in her beanbag to get closer. “Sometimes it’s scary the first time. Daddy says new places always feel too big until you find your favorite corner.”
Walker hovered just inside the playroom. He didn’t sit with Abby's Daddy, but he didn’t leave either, arms folded across his chest. His gaze swept the whole room, then landed on me and stayed there. Watching. Not like Marco did, all slimy and too much. Walker’s watching was different. Solid. It made me feel like if I ever looked over, he’d be right here. Honestly, it helped.
I picked up a pink marker and uncapped it. I wasn’t sure what to say. Abby was already coloring and humming a weird little tune under her breath. She didn’t seem to care that I just sat there. Every so often she’d hand me a sticker or a new marker. No pressure.
The room was loud. Not in a bad way, but in a real way. Squeals from the train, Littles arguing over sticker sheets, someone giggling so hard they hiccupped. It should have been overwhelming, but instead, it was…not. It was like watchinga show on TV about how normal people lived. There was no judgment here. No one even looked at me funny.
“You been Little before?” Abby asked out of nowhere. She made it sound like she was asking if I liked pizza.
I shook my head. “Only online. And sometimes in my head, I guess?”
She beamed. “That counts.” She leaned in, confiding, “I didn’t even know this was a thing until Daddy took me to Salvation my first time. I was super nervous, but everyone was so nice. Then I made friends, and we did crafts and had snacks, and it was the best.” She glanced over at Walker, then back at me. “Walker’s really protective. That means you’re extra safe, you know?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know how to do it right.”
Abby froze, braid in her mouth, then snorted. “There’s no right, silly.” She pointed with the marker at her coloring page, which already had three kittens colored in, all with braided hair like hers. “Sometimes I talk a lot. Sometimes I don’t talk at all.” She tapped her head. “Sometimes I say things that only make sense to me. I have huge conversations in my head and forget no one else can hear them. Sometimes I wanna play, sometimes I wanna nap. Daddy just says…be Abby. That’s enough.”
I blinked at her. She was adorable and completely unapologetic. “But don’t you have to do what your Daddy says?”
