Tuesday, March 27th 2001
The Horsea Hostel, Pearl Port, 07:30 hrs…
James woke up with a troublesome pain stitching itself into his back from the hardness of the bed in which they'd spent the night, yet he was glad to have it as it was proof that their departure from Viridian City had not been a mere reverie. He felt Jessie moving in her sleep and his eyes immediately flickered to where she moved contentedly. She clung loosely to his arm in her sleep, with her t-shirt hanging slackly on her body as she stretched, and although she was pregnant, she seemed dangerously bony as far as he was concerned. The last thing he felt they needed was her having a miscarriage over an eating disorder; in spite of him initially wishing she hadn't been pregnant for another few years, he felt like their child was like a part of their lives that had been missing, just like Meowth had been when he was alive. His thoughts hardened when he remembered the deceased feline for two reasons. One was the whole situation regarding the little cat-type's death, and the other was what Tyra had babbled on about the first night he'd seen her over the last week—he wasn't going to deny it had spooked him, and upon dwelling on it, he was usually swamped with unease afterwards. Today was no different, and he rued even thinking about that girl—she was deft at making him contemplate his life (she had been ever since he'd known her), and although he'd always been positive that Jessie was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving, he'd often had a few thoughts niggling at him, prompting him to turn to the possibility of a future with her. He hated her for everything she'd done, yet these underlying thoughts disrupted his conscience at the same time, overthrowing his reason in the name of confusion. Jessie moved again and her hair cascaded gracefully off her shoulder and onto his abdomen, and the gentle touch of her hair on his skin pleased him greatly in a way that words could not describe. He gained pleasure in the simple knowledge of her secure welfare, and even though he didn't realise it, they both felt like the six months apart had never happened due to their proximity again. In fact, they were closer now than before as they had thrown many though not all of their secrets into the light, and they were a few months away from beginning a family away from the dangers that had wrecked their lives over the years. Their greatest challenge for survival, however, was yet to come, and instead of feeling safe in their getaway, they should have been fortifying their love to make their next horrific ordeal bearable.
Jessie's only truly cognisant self was presently swimming through a whirlpool of ideas revolving around the torments she'd frequently suffered at the hands of her employer at his whim. One of the worst memories flooded her head; he held her against a cold, dank wall of an abandoned mill with rocks jutting out of it every few metres (one of them was incising her shoulder blade, leaving her right arm numb and immobile). She'd failed to satisfy him as he raped her, and now it was time for her to learn her punishment; he had launched three consecutive attacks at the defenceless woman, and her face was bloodied as one direct result of it. Whilst her bare feet ached with the cold as she stood on the broken glass-laden wet, stony ground, her knowledge of her predicament ebbed away with her feelings. She wasn't awarded the bliss of ignorance though; she was brought back into her horrible torment by an excruciating pain striking up a couple of inches below her naval, created by Henri inserting a needle into that very spot. She was too terrified to scream, and so with no vent for means of escape, her pain gathered with the force of a tempest and it invaded each pulse in her body, hammering against her skin without a trace of remorse. After an eternity or two, he extracted the syringe and threateningly pointed it under her eye before wordlessly making his escape into the dark, forbidding night without a care for her safety or health. She remembered that night with such clarity—the injection had dulled her body and sent her mind spinning higher than the stratosphere, and the only bodily function that had worked for her had been stretching her left arm to unhook her other shoulder from the rock. After that, she'd fallen to the ground, as unconscious as she was naked, leaving the rain to wash away some of the clotting blood from her face. She never did know what he'd injected into her, and every day she worried whether or not her baby would be safe (it was for this reason that she felt excessively guilty at James' reluctance to sleep with her after having an unknown substance shot into his system). She'd woken up with her coat laid over her body; evidently a person had passed her and chosen to make matters easier for her. She immediately ran her hand over her stomach and nether regions to check for verification that her three-month-old child's life had not ended prematurely because of Henri and his evil syringe.
Jessie shot awake and for one horrible instant she believed she was back at the mill, not believing she wasn't until she realised that it was an uncomfortable bed and not stone she lay upon, and that it was a cold sweaty t-shirt and not a rain-soaked coat that covered her. It was her hand touching her stomach in her sleep that had awoken her from her sickening flashback, and she felt marginally weaker now than when she had during the time in question. She vaguely recognised James' voice asking her for reassurance that she was feeling all right, and she noticed that she was jerking disconnectedly as she tried to respond to her extremely worried fiancé. He didn't understand what was happening to her, and he held her against his body to calm her as she fought to wrench control back into her mind, and he involuntarily twitched each time a tear fell from her eyes and slid down their private tracks along his exposed skin. He eased the back of her t-shirt off her skin seeing it was saturated with sweat, and he would have asked her to move her arms so he could remove it when he noticed the hunted look in her eyes, lucidly caused by one of his actions, but he didn't know which. He let go of the material and kissed her lightly, whispering she was safe with him, and he wasn't going to let any harm befall her whilst he was around. He knew by her actions that what she dreamt about wasn't fictitious, or if it was, it was too closely based on real circumstances, and there wasn't a possibility for him that it had been a mere nightmare that could have upset her to this extent. Just as suddenly as it had attacked her, she blinked sharply to remove her fear, and she moulded her body against James' whilst he quietly soothed her, annoyed that she could have acted so pathetically in her sleep, especially the night after she'd made a break from it all. She took off the drenched t-shirt, groaning at the high-water content embedded in its fibres, and she accepted relief from the crisp air as it collided with her sticky skin. She could barely begin to imagine the discomfort her fiancé must be putting up with as he held her moist body, though he made no signs of it. She welcomed his lips with her own, tasting unasked questions in his mouth, breathing out an almost indecipherable 'Good Morning' to him as she settled herself on his lap, neither of them feeling the need to obey restraint on this occasion.
Team Rocket Headquarters, Viridian City, 08:47 hrs…
Giovanni strode angrily into his building, utterly determined to annihilate anything that obstructed his ideas or person from now on; having something explode next to his face was more than enough to deliver to him an even more ruthlessness attitude to life, especially since he'd forever be reminded of it whenever he glimpsed his grotesque reflection. His anger boiled quickly when he saw his secretary crying at her desk, making futile endeavours at cracking the code that James had ravaged the system with yesterday, and horror glimmered across her face when she saw the overly sadistic look in his eyes. He grabbed her shoulder and forced her forwards to extract some coherent answers from the terrified blonde, yet he noted she winced more than the average person should with such a manoeuvre. She spilled out all of the details as the white, blinding pain overthrew her dignity in one easy shot, and Giovanni's tolerance became zero, the permanence of which had yet to be determined. He forced her back into her seat whilst his mind was a flurry with ideas and dilemmas; of course that insolent youth would be eliminated at the correct opportunity, but first his location must be learnt, and he must acquire the knowledge of how to utilise something that could exact his revenge against the boy for all past discrepancies. The ideal method to gain such information would be to use his electronic sources, but the uncouth bastard stayed two steps ahead of me, Giovanni thought bitterly to himself. His answers lay in his room, or rather, sat on his burnt-out desk, waiting patiently for the head of the building to speak to him.
"Why are you here?"
"I'm the solution to your problems, assuming, of course, that you wish to punish the person responsible for immobilising your computer"
"Proceed"
"I know where the good-for-nothing rattata is hiding"
"You know his exact location?"
"No, but I know where he is, and it's so small, you'll be able to wipe both him and his whore from your armchair once you're there"
"Don't call her that"
"Defensive, aren't we? It's all
she is anyway. She's really let herself go this time"
"She's what?"
"It's the truth, she's slept with more men than she's had hot dinners, which is quite believable since she went for years without a regular and balanced diet"
"I would never have expected her to go down that route, even if I did assist her. So where is this ignominious excuse for a human located?"
"Before I tell you, it is vital that we make a few things clear"
"Such as what?"
"Such as what I gain in return for this information, and whether or not I approve with your intentions"
**
Tyra sat alone in a non-descript derelict café, sipping at a lukewarm coffee that bore as much appealing taste as the building itself. She reflected back on her pathetic life, and dully noted she had nobody she was able to call companion, never mind lover, and this depressed her greatly. Absentmindedly she tapped the top of the table with her fingernails repeatedly; it might have annoyed the other customers, had there been any. Actually its emptiness was what had originally attracted her attention to the café, and since she intended on doing some soul-searching, she wanted a place that presented few distractions. The only other sound in the building was the steady drip of water escaping through a crack in the coffee machine, and the occasional turn of a newspaper, whenever the manager was finished reading a section. Her eyes began to struggle for sight through the impending tears welling up, clouding her line of vision, and she felt physically hurt when she thought about the way James had left her, and how she'd lost him to Jessie yet again. She angrily cursed herself for having the miscarriage, even though there was a chance that it wouldn't be his, it would at least have been something of his to hold onto, and she would have felt like she had some purpose in this gods-forsaken world. Her side began to ache with suppressed misery; it seemed the more she tried to eliminate her pain by ignoring it, the more damage it was actually creating. She snarled silently in anguish as the pertinent tears escaped the boundaries her eyes presented, and in one long blink, she banished most of the salty liquid whilst dwelling on the worst moments of her life. Surprisingly, the man she loved was involved in every one of them, however indirect she may have thought his involvement were in them. She jolted in fright when she reopened her eyes; she no longer sat alone in the dilapidated place, and she was amazed that she hadn't sensed her visitor sitting opposite her. It was the person who had saved her from the portcullis.
His normally perfectly shaved face seemed a little rough, which indicated that the older man hadn't bothered with razors in a few days, to say the very least. His eyes looked drawn, and he emitted a general ambience of fatigue from his very person, and in spite of her initial horror, was she actually feeling pity for him? Her instincts screamed for her to leave the café as quickly as possible, but her willpower seemed to think that she owed him some minutes of her time in repayment for him saving her life, so she sat uneasily, waiting for him to say something. His fixated gaze never strayed far from the frightened female's own, and he realised that she must fear him for their past history, even though he had shown a change in his attitude—he could have easily let her die the other day. Exasperatedly, he exhaled and revealed:
"I'm not here to torture you, if that's what you really believe"
"What proof have I got of that?"
"I haven't killed you, and if I was going to, I could have easily killed you with a shuriken when your defences were down a few moments ago. I merely want to trade knowledge with you, and what I have to say might be of interest"
"I'm not working for you, I've had enough of that, and I've got nobody to force me into it this time. I'd rather have starved if I knew what you'd make us do"
"Yes, it was rather unfortunate that my darling had to shoot him, he did serve some purpose before he…well, that's irrelevant right now. I'm not here under any similar circumstances today, my wife doesn't even know I'm here; she thinks I'm attending a business meeting in Charcoal Town. No murder or mutilation required, but I would like you to help me out a little. Same rate, same target, no threats"
"You want me to go after James? No way, he hates me more than ever now, and I'm not going through this again. It's absurd to even--"
"How do you think he feels towards me?"
The only sound detectable for a moment was the drip.
"You deserve every ounce of vengeance and hatred he possesses"
"Please help my son, he's in grave danger"
"Danger? Do you even know the meaning of the word? My life is horrendous enough without the added hassle of trying to assist you, and if he found out--"
"He's not going to, if you are more unnoticed than last time. I implore you, please help me, as a lifetime favour. I promise never to approach you again after this, if…"
"If I live?"
"There should be no risk of anything other than that happening. I just feel so aghast at requiring third party assistance to save my solitary son's life. You know I don't want to hurt him just as much as you do, so can I please convince you?"
Drip.
"What is this danger of which you speak?"
Drip.
"Believe me when I say I have nothing to do with it, I overheard something in the headquarters today"
"What's going to happen?"
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
**
With entwined fingers, Jessie and James walked down the wide, pedestrian-friendly route that sufficed as the main road in Pearl Port, and although the town was famous for its friendly population, they seemed to be receiving angry glares from all directions as they minded their own business. No matter how much they both chose to ignore it, the disdain-filled looks ground both of their good moods to a minimum; they refused to show their true feelings to neither the crowd nor their partner, and it wouldn't have bothered either of them if they knew what had triggered this effect—were they always this nasty to visitors? Jessie motioned to James that she was feeling fatigued and they sat down on the nearest bench (it was in a park away from the centre of the town) as she regained her strength. This action worried him owing to the fact it hadn't been that long since they'd left the uncomfortable hostel, and a very cold bench in late March was not one of the most reassuring images to him when it came to her safety, especially since she was with child. She leaned towards him and rested her head on his shoulder; her fatigue had merely been a fictitious story to get them away from the brooding glares the villagers were giving them. He ran his fingers smoothly through her hair to act as a minor show of affection that shouldn't irritate the unseemly residents of the town, and without moving his lips, he quietly asked her what was wrong in a tone that only she could hear. He would have run his hand over her thigh like they usually did when they wanted to ask it inconspicuously, but he got the impression that if he did, he would be greatly punished for his actions through deep resentment from the villagers. She sighed and made a quick nod in the direction of the crowd as she used adjusting her head for comfort as a façade to the public. He kissed her cheek and softly whispered they could leave the town if she was feeling uncomfortable, and in spite of her love for the surrounding beauty the port town possessed, she didn't want to raise a child where it would be hated each day of its life—both she and her fiancé had suffered enough of that throughout their lives. She whispered back that she felt it unwise to stay where they weren't welcome, and she voiced her opinion that they should move later that day. It was with great sorrow she did so; she despised travelling when unnecessary, and she'd loved the landscape near the port from what she'd seen. She kissed him lightly when it finally seemed that they were alone, but an elderly woman cracking her cane across James' back spoilt their private moment. He shot up immediately and turned to face the woman with as much dignity as he was capable of possessing, and he refused to touch where his skin was stinging from the attack to make it look like she hadn't hurt him when in reality he was in great pain.
"What was that unprovoked attack for,
you bitter old hag?"
"Respect your elders, and get away
from this place"
"Why? I haven't done anything to offend you or anyone else here"
"We don't welcome your type around here, and the last thing we want is trouble"
"I'm not causing anybody any grief, am I? In fact it's been the other way around, I've kept my business to myself and it's you people that are troubling us"
"You aren't welcome here, now leave"
"Are you threatening me?"
"Your very presence is threatening us, so leave us alone. Get your rubbish out of here before it's too late"
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING RUBBISH?"
"Jess, calm down. Too late for what?"
"Just leave now you audacious whelp"
"Give me three good reasons"
"At the very least you've beaten up a pregnant…that's supposed to be a woman?"
"That's news to me"
"Just look at the face of the
thing beside you"
"I didn't do that, she's my fiancée not a thing and I'd never harm her"
"A child out of wedlock? Your status is deteriorating by the minute. You're trouble"
"I haven't done anything, now kindly crawl back to the rock from whence you came, find a life and tell someone who cares"
"He's coming back for you"
"I've never been here before, what are you on about?"
The old woman cackled to herself as the perplexed youth became increasingly angry, and she turned around without explaining her comment. If James' eyes had narrowed any further, they would have resembled Brock's, and she could feel his fury burning into her back. Suddenly, she stopped and without turning around, she jauntily called out:
"The slut'll lose that brat shortly. Enjoy it while you can"
James lost all self-control and tore after the woman, but even though he had the advantage of a thief's stealth, she evaded his attack easily and by smashing the handle of her cane into his throat she forced him backwards with his own momentum, which triggered his phobia. Jessie had already gone after the old woman, and although she was afraid of the woman striking her with the wooden object, it didn't deter her desire to make the woman pay for the unprecedented attack on her lover. With an unexpected speed and strength, the woman sidestepped Jessie's charge and caused her to fall by striking her cane across Jessie's ankles. Before either of the youths could react, she raised the cane above Jessie's stomach and forced it downwards, moving it mere millimetres before it would have collided with the skin. Neither teenager was bothered with her departure, even when she muttered her excuse for not killing the baby ('I'm not the one destined to kill it…'), they had more important matters to contend with; Jessie was crying hysterically, and James was coughing up thick quantities of blood. At the end of the street, the elderly woman met the person who'd told her to openly taunt them. He merely said, to which she said nothing before her departure:
"Good work, this should delay them sufficiently. Your head will be the payment if he doesn't make it through this though, understand? His death is to be at the hands of someone other than a peasant like you"
**
Tyra wandered the town aimlessly whilst she contemplated heading back to Viridian City and quitting her mission she'd reluctantly accepted—her love for James overruled her hatred for his brusque family. She shivered as an oceanic breeze chilled her to her frail skeleton, and whilst blinking away unemotional tears the razor wind had caused, she wondered where her target could be. The villagers had been unbelievably welcoming towards her whenever she had interacted with them; she had thought such niceties surrounding the town's reputation were merely fables to attract tourists to the wonderfully serene place. She strode at a moderate pace, caught in between her desire to escape her return to a deceptive world and to find James to make sure the job was carried out both efficiently and quickly. She didn't need to deliver any threats, but the sooner his safety was ensured, the better, according to the weary young woman; she had no friends in this lifetime, and it was something that seemed destined to continue forever more, especially if she treated all of her former friends like targets. She brought the collar of her jacket up around her ears as the crisp wind blew even harsher against her dried-out skin, cursing the moment she'd accepted to be her former lover's guardian angel—she was risking death this time, if she was seen anywhere near either of them that was. She dwelt on the thought of the couple together, and instantly she felt jealous of Jessie; not necessarily because she was the one James had and always would love, but because she had succeeded in one of the many places where she had failed: she was still pregnant.
She eventually banished these thoughts from her mind, and when she was rid of them, she glanced forward and noticed that the man she was supposed to protect standing opposite to an old woman, and judging by the taut stance he possessed, the words being exchanged between them were far from pleasantries. The battle lasted only a few moments, but it was what happened afterwards that chilled her far more than the malevolent wind circling the city. The woman approached her ex-partner, and his haunting, evil expression told her to expose the danger to the young couple without any regard to what they might do to her. She began to head back to them, but her intestines twisted uneasily as she saw the horrific situation that James was presently in, and there was no trace of her ex-partner when she returned her glance to his direction. She stood in the shadows for a few more minutes, feeling terrible as she watched the heart wrenching and stomach-turning event unfold before her. No matter how long her life would be, she was never going to forget the sight of her past lover finding it impossible to breathe as his own blood cut out his air passage.
Viridian City, 17:55 hours…
Giovanni swallowed a cut glass tumbler of neat whisky, the welcome familiar burn coursing its way throughout his body; it was one of the few things that gave him pleasure each time he did it—his whores for workers often failed to satisfy in their terror. The skin on his face was an angry burgundy, and peeling in other places; a direct result of the miniature bomb that the bitch Tyra had thrown at him. Another shot of neat whisky fuelled his desire to teach her the lesson she required; his worker had already informed him of her presence in Pearl Port. The old woman had in fact been a past rocket member, and convincing her to do a favour for Giovanni hadn't been too difficult, in fact she had apparently been a little more than eager to assist in the matter, or so he'd heard. Tyra had been seen by the ditto, which had taken the form of an adult male waiting for his wife, convincingly glancing at his watch every few minutes whenever she looked in his direction. She'd been followed, and now it wouldn't be too long until all of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place; nobody could make a mockery of him or his organisation and escape with their lives—no exceptions. He drained the rest of the alcoholic drink in three mouthfuls and threw the empty bottle at the door, making the guards in the vicinity jump with shock. Those who should have been on duty that morning and failed to turn up when Giovanni entered the building had all been gathered and surprisingly 'volunteered' to act as test subjects in future experiments, and until they were required, they were residing in a low-class cell, which not only had minimal air points located in it, but it was also based in the total dark. Of course, none of this happened out of their own free will, and Giovanni was trying to think of ways to punish them for their uncaring attitude that hadn't been used all that often in the past, after all, he needed more reasons for pathetic members to fear his wrath. His secretary was lying unconscious in one of his private rooms adjoining to the office he was in at this very moment, and she'd stay there until he injected her with a certain serum. He bore no desire to listen to her pathetic whimpering on how she didn't know how to reverse the code, and he had yet to decide whether or not he wanted to torture her sexually as well. He somehow doubted he would, since she had remained undeniably loyal to him over the years she'd worked there, and he understood that she'd acted in every way that was in her power when the headquarters had been invaded by that scum. He lit a cheroot of the finest quality and smoked it as he extracted another bottle of distilled whisky from his secret cooler, and he drank half of the bottle neat again as soon as he'd opened it. He felt the alcohol tingling at his brain cells, eating away at them no doubt, and he embraced the painkiller with open arms. His Persian looked at him as he would an insane soon-to-be morsel before returning to the monotonous job of cleaning his coat. Giovanni looked out of the magnificent window in an eternally pensive mode it would seem, guzzling some sweet, strong alcohol every so often, and then he knew what he wanted to do. He went from staring out of the window vacantly to moving like a creature hunting down its food, enjoying the chase of its prey almost as much as the tearing of its flesh. Which is what he intended to do now. He jabbed the syringe into Lindsey's torso without particular care, and as she slowly came round, he smashed the bottle across her knees before sending the broken neck of the bottle into her right wrist, the potent alcohol irritating the abrasions almost more than the glass had. He felt no mercy as he took her fervently but without love of any sort; nobody failed him and escaped with it, ever. No exceptions.
Pearl Port Hospital, 21:20 hours…
A thoroughly terrified Jessie sat in an uncomfortable seat in the corridor outside the pre-operating theatre, waiting to hear the condition of her fiancé from on of the few doctors who roamed the intricate maze of hallways in the building. She had been informed during the previous hour that his condition was stable, but they needed to ensure that the bleeding had stopped, lest they would subject him to a trip to the operating auditorium. Her hunger and discomfort were completely irrelevant to her right now, so much so that she didn't even notice that her stomach pained her from lack of food, nor did she perceive her rump had turned numb from the terrible chair on which she rested. What seemed like an aeon of eternities later, they finally granted her admittance into the miniscule room to enable her to visit the love of her life. He was even paler than she was (a feat in itself as her alabaster complexion was stained white with fright), and his eyes seemed less bright then they usually were behind his glasses—though under the present circumstances it was quite understandable. He released a small sound of pain as he embraced her tightly, as her body were forcing the four needles in his arms into his skin even deeper. His eyes widened as they kissed, and he abruptly pushed her back without warning, and he reached for a small bowl made of card into which he intended to vomit. The sight of him throwing up blood horrified Jessie, but he told her not to worry since it was old with a grim smile, and he briefly explained that it was only blood he'd swallowed when he'd been coughing it up. He apologised heavily for her having to endure watching that, whilst mentally thinking gargling the hydrogen peroxide in a few minutes would taste viler than the bile that frequently visited his mouth. He needed to swill the chemical around in his mouth to prevent any blood from clotting because if it did, it would enhance the risk of something similar happening again. He explained to her since he had failed to take a few doses of his medication over the last few nights, his throat had contracted an infection, most likely from the smoke-filled tavern. The crack to his neck had forced the bad tissue into his main bloodstream, and when it punctured the fragile cell walls, it had caused the bleeding. He moved back slightly and again Jessie felt nauseated to see a thin layer of blood to travel up the tube attached to his right elbow via a needle. He quietly explained it was only travelling into the intravenous liquids because he'd moved his arm into a different position and capillarity accounted for the movement of the blood. She tried banishing the image of him squatting in the street as he lost valuable crimson liquid from his system whilst he used the hydrogen peroxide, yet it lingered in her memories. The attack had been unprovoked and unnecessary, and Jessie kept wondering to herself what would have happened if a passer-by hadn't been considerate enough to ring the emergency services for an ambulance from their cell phone. She kissed him in a hurry to act as a reminder he was safe and relatively healthy, and she gave a brief, genuine smile as she agreed that the chemical tasted revolting as she sampled it from his lips. A tear unexpectedly split away from her tear duct and hastily raced down her cheek whilst she uttered a question through trembling lips.
"What did that hag mean, I'm going to lose our girl?"
"Pay no heed to her words Jess, she didn't like us and she was only trying to hurt us for some reason known only to her"
"She could have killed her then, she nearly did"
"I know, and I hate myself for leaving you unprotected for even such a short time, though how she was so fast and strong for a woman of her age is beyond me. She had the speed of an assassin"
"You had reason for not coming near me, she c-could have k-k-killed you with another hit, and I'm glad you didn't"
"It's in the past Jess, we can't change it; the best thing for us to do is to forget the old bitch. She didn't know what she was talking about, okay?"
"No it's not okay, she said we were trouble and that someone was after us. I'm not living in fear again, I thought we'd made a fresh start to avoid all of this"
"We have, and she just tried to grasp at something to annoy us. The least we could do is take no notice of her, just to prove her wrong"
"But who did she mean? And when will he catch up with us? Not du…"
"It won't be him, he couldn't have possibly known we were heading here. Just ignore it Jessie. When I'm allowed to leave, we'll move to another place where we'll be welcome and unnoticed, okay? I'll always protect you Jessie, and as long as I'm around no harm will come to you again"
"Promise? And our baby girl'll be fine?"
"Naturally"
Oh, but how wrong he was.