Chapter 6: Pinki Pie & Home

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The door flew open a heartbeat after she'd knocked, confusion on her faze greeted by the horrified alarm written all over Calypso's. An expression that would have looked comical under different circumstances.

"Hi," Cal said, some of her tension visibly leaving her shoulders the moment she saw Emery - a reaction, Emery noted, that immediately made her heart warm.

"Hi..." She replied back, slow, bewildered. The bawling noise now unquestionably louder without the door as a barrier, and coming from the direction of the smaller of the two bedrooms. "What's happening?"

"We're having a problem," Calypso's voice sounded defeated, almost pleading, as she led Emery to the source of the crying. Shifting to the side as they approached to allow her to peek through the half open door at what she assumed was a child, but it had hidden itself so far under the ruffled bedding that it was hard to tell. And then, Calypso said, with a tone that was so dispirited it was almost amusing. "This is Isla."

Emery reminded herself to make her jaw behave, closing her stunned mouth, her arms folding. "Cal... exactly how long have you had a kid?"

"Um, about two days?" Calypso answered, though by the look on her face it seemed like the guess of a woman who'd surrendered her perception of time to the chaos of raising a toddler.

Emery's forehead creased so fiercely she was worried it was going to give her a headache. "How?"

"Her family - I'd been working with them for years on and off, her grandma left me as guardian in her will." Calypso explained. "Honestly, I wish I knew her logic behind it, but it was either this or foster care..."

Emery let her arms fall loose. "Oh."

"I need help Em, she's been crying for the last half an hour."

"I'm not sure how much help I'm going to be, I have next to no experience with kids. And even less so around screaming ones." She grimaced.

Calypso looked at her, her expression turning despaired. "But you work in a fertility clinic?"

"And?" Emery raised an eyebrow. "You do realise Calypso, that I generally have no involvement with the children of my clients past the point of conception?"

"Oh," Calypso looked even more defeated at that, as her eyes fell back on the wailing three-year-old.

"What actually happened?"

"Well," She began solemnly. "It started when she threw her teddy out the window. God knows how she even managed to open it, I turned my back for five minutes and she'd suddenly puzzled her way through the child lock."

Emery watched attentively as Calypso took a breath. "So I went to fetch it from the alleyway, but of course, it decided to land in the dumpster of all places. So, I thought, you know, naturally, I should wash it. But now she's mad at me because she thinks I drowned her horse."

Emery was trying to stifle a smile, her eyebrows raised, when Calypso finally turned to look at her again.

"Please don't laugh,"

"I'm not," She cleared her throat to fight it off, shaking her head. "I'm not laughing."

Emery heard her sigh again before she spoke. "I don't know what to do. I can't leave her like this but the dryer's still got another twenty minutes before it's finished."

Emery took a step closer towards the door. "Can I?"

"Go ahead,"

She pushed it open enough to fit through, aware of how Isla quietened to muffled sniffing at the sound of it squeaking on its hinges, before Emery walked over to the bed, and tentatively knelt down beside it.

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