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Violet and Sunshine stood side by side in Sunshine's room, gazing out the window as their father's car disappeared down the driveway. He was on his way to pick up their mom, and the thought of what would happen next was heavy on their minds.

Violet broke the silence first. "What's gonna happen when they get back? What do I say?"

Sunshine sighed, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she thought. "There's no keeping it a secret anymore, Vi."

Violet shook her head. "If they find out I killed myself, they'll lose it. For real this time. I can't let them know."

From the bed, Tate's voice cut in, casual but blunt. "You can't control it forever. I mean, it is what it is, Violet."

Violet slumped beside him on the bed, her hands settling in her lap. "It's not 'UTube' with a 'U,' it's 'YouTube.' Y-O-U," she corrected, glancing at the laptop where Tate had been typing.

"Oh," Tate muttered, retyping his mistake.

Violet's gaze drifted, her voice slipping into a bitter murmur. "One of these days, this computer will be obsolete. People will have microchips implanted in their brains or something. We won't be able to watch YouTube or anything. We'll be like all the others here; prisoners in a windowless cell."

Sunshine lowered herself onto the bed, sitting beside Tate. She rested a hand on her swollen stomach, her eyes distant. "I can't even imagine what that's like," she whispered. "Being stuck here... for eternity."

Tate shrugged, glancing over at her. "It's not all bad," he said with a smile. "You're here."

Sunshine smiled back, but it was sad, a flicker of something bittersweet crossing her face. "Not for long."

A chime of a baby's music box suddenly pulled them from their thoughts. All three of them turned their heads toward the hallway, the sound floating in from a nearby room.

"What the hell?" Violet muttered, already moving to investigate. Tate helped Sunshine up, her swollen belly slowing her down, and the three of them cautiously made their way down the hall. As they neared one of the spare rooms, muffled voices became clear. Violet reached out, pushing the door open.

Inside, Chad stood atop a ladder, adjusting decorations, while Patrick painted a dresser a bold shade of red.

"Who asked you to decorate the nursery?" Violet asked, crossing her arms as they stepped fully into the room. Tate's eyes flicked around, sizing up the changes, while Sunshine stared at the cribs.

Chad barely glanced over. "Let me break it down for you, sweetheart. This is our house, and we're having twins."

"Who's your surrogate? One of those nurses in my basement?" Violet shot back, her arms tightening against her chest.

Chad stepped down from the ladder with infuriating casualness. "No, no. A very, very human surrogate. Elvira—your lovely mother," he said, flicking his gaze toward Sunshine, "and your darling sister."

Sunshine's heart sank, her shoulders slumping. "Excuse me?"

"You think you're gonna steal those babies?" Tate stepped forward, crossing his arms defensively. His eyes darted between Chad and Patrick, clearly agitated. "You pathetic homos couldn't steal the shit out of your own ass!"

Chad and Patrick exchanged amused glances, laughing softly at Tate's outburst.

"Doesn't matter," Violet interrupted. "As soon as my parents get back, we're leaving. They're leaving. So, knock yourselves out." She looked to Sunshine, her lips pressing into a thin line before turning back to the couple.

Chad smirked, that knowing look in his eyes. "Honey, your parents aren't going anywhere, not as long as you're stuck here."

Patrick joined in. "And don't get snotty, little sister. You'll be begging to babysit soon enough. This place might be big, but it gets very, very lonely."

"Though, it could get ugly." Chad's eyes shifted toward Sunshine, his words nonchalant. "Were you a C-section? Is there an existing zipper we could use?"

"Fuck you," Sunshine spat, her face contorting with disgust.

Tate immediately stepped closer, fists clenched. "Watch it, you goddamn queen."

Chad feigned terror, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. "Oh, I'm quaking in my loafers. What are you gonna do, Tate? Murder me?" He tilted his head and Sunshine glanced at Tate, suspicion creeping into her eyes.

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Sunshine waddled over to Constance's house, her fury simmering beneath the surface. She was exhausted—tired of being angry, tired of feeling sad, and tired of anything that wasn't peaceful or calm. Her emotions had been on a rollercoaster for weeks now, and it felt like she was losing control.

When she stormed through the back door, Constance was in the middle of the kitchen, slipping a dish into the oven. She straightened up, glancing over her at Sunshine's entrance. "Sunshine," she greeted. "What a lovely surprise."

Sunshine, already feeling winded from the short walk, sank into one of the dining chairs, her arms resting on the table. "I need help."

Constance's curiosity piqued, and she set her oven mitts aside, gracefully sauntering over. "What's this about, darling?"

"Do you remember those two guys that lived here before us?" Sunshine asked.

"Frick and Frack?" Constance let out a small laugh. "How could I ever forget?"

Sunshine's jaw clenched. "They're planning on taking my baby... and my brother."

A flicker of something dark passed through the older woman's features. "Let me assure you, that will never happen,"

"My mom's on her way back from the hospital today," Sunshine continued, anxiety gnawing at her as she rubbed her stomach. "And I'm supposed to be having this baby any day now. I just... I don't trust them."

"Don't worry," Constance muttered. "I'll take care of it."

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Sunshine sat on the edge of her bed, her leg bouncing anxiously as she waited for Constance to show up. Her nerves were on edge, every minute that passed stretching her patience thinner and thinner.

Tate sat beside her, watching her closely. Sensing her distress, he reached over, gently taking her hands in his. "Hey, it's gonna be okay," he whispered, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in an attempt to soothe her. "I won't let them touch our baby."

Sunshine didn't respond right away, her eyes fixed on their intertwined hands. "They're never going to stop, Tate," she said quietly, shaking her head.

She sighed deeply, her chest tightening with the pressure of it all. "I really don't know how much more of this I can take." Her voice wavered as she spoke, the exhaustion creeping into every word. "I feel like I'm dangling from my last string of sanity, and it's fraying."

Tate squeezed her hands a little tighter. "You are... the strongest person I've ever met. I envy that about you. You'll push through, you always do."

Sunshine managed a weak smile. She wanted to believe him, but the constant fear and anxiety was wearing her down.

A soft knock at the door broke the silence, and Sunshine looked up to see Constance standing in the doorway. Her eyes flicked to Tate briefly before they settled on Sunshine.

"We're going to have to try another... alternative," Constance said, her voice tinged with regret as she stepped inside. "So, I called Billie Dean."

Sunshine frowned, her confusion clear. "What's she going to do?"

Constance sighed, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. "I'm hoping she knows a way to get rid of them... for good."

"Do you really think she can help?"

"If anyone can deal with this... it's her."

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