It had been a long two days. Yesterday – had it only been yesterday? – she had been at the Champ de Mars with her friends when they had watched those two monsters attack the Lancer and her friend. Last night, the "night of flames," Marinette had called her out in the middle of the night to rush through the chaos and fire and asphyxia to help her keep her family safe at the bakery. Without even returning home, she had gone with Ladybug and Cat Noir to search in Montreuil, and then from there to run through all the outlying communes while Ladybug and the others met with the President. After staying up all night, she'd only managed to nap for a couple hours at the bakery before Ladybug gave the call to meet them in Lyon – there, she, the Owl, and Impact had spent the last four hours searching the city from top to bottom… and she hadn't seen a thing.

When Ladybug had finally made the announcement that they could all return home, Leïla had been too tired to question it.

Leïla grimaced, hesitating outside of her apartment, her hand poised to knock. Her stomach clenched anxiously. When she had left last night, she hadn't been able to tell her parents anything; she had only spun some story she was too exhausted to remember and rushed out the door. They hadn't called or texted today – she couldn't imagine why not – and she hadn't even thought about letting them know that she was okay. She swallowed. After disappearing for almost a full day, they had to be worried sick about her! But she couldn't tell them what had really happened… but they were bound to ask.

What was she supposed to tell her parents about the last day?

"Don't worry about what to tell them," Kheaa hissed, poking his head out of her purse and looking up at her with enormous eyes. He passed her hand comfortingly. "I know that they care about you. They will only be happy to see you home safe."

Leïla frowned, studying the door for a long moment. "I hope so…" Still, she hesitated. But she couldn't wait forever – she had to do something. She drew her hand back. Suddenly, the door popped open, and her eyes widened in shock, looking up at the side of her father's face. Kheaa dove back down into Leïla's purse and pulled it shut.

"I will pick up some pickles for you," Leïla's father called, looking over his shoulder back into the apartment.

"Make sure you get the dill ones!" her mother shouted back.

"Yes, dear. I–" Leïla's father turned back around, and his eyes widened in surprise and he took a half-step backward. "Leïla? You're back?"

Leïla smiled nervously. "Hi, abi," she told him. "Sorry I ran off last night and didn't come back this morning. I–" Before she could finish the statement, her father pulled her into a tight embrace. Cautiously, she returned his hug, sighing in relief. "I'm sorry," she murmured, allowing herself to relax.

"I'm just relieved to see you okay," he responded, pressing a kiss to her forehead and leaning back, holding her by the shoulders. "Not that I had any doubts, of course," he added wryly, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "I was just… having a video game tournament with Marie and Sophie," she explained, looking away. "Yesterday we were looking over our homework for the summer, and Marie invited us to sleep over."

"Of course you were," he agreed readily, nodding, his face taking on an enigmatic look. "And I'm glad your homework turned out satisfactorily." He glanced behind him back into the apartment and grimaced. "But your mother will be happy to see you – the boys have been especially wild all day. If we're being honest, I think they may have guessed that something is different…"

"Different?" Leïla repeated, cocking her head to one side, furrowing her brows in confusion. "What do you mean, different?"

Her father chuckled, giving her a mischievous grin. "That is more your mother's secret to tell than mine. But I suppose it may be time that we tell you – before I leave for the store." He held his hand out. "Come."

Curious, Leïla followed him inside and down to the living room, where Salim and Samir were playing on the floor, several Lego sets scattered on the floor around them. Shuffling around the toys, pushing a few bricks aside with her foot, Leïla dropped her bag on the floor and let out a groan, rolling her shoulders.

"Are you already back from Semouns'?" called her mother from the direction of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, dear," her father answered. "I didn't even get a chance to leave the apartment!"

"But what – Leïla!" Her mother stepped out of the kitchen and quickly rushed over to hug her tightly before holding her at arm's length and giving her a quick once-over before pulling her into another hug.

Leïla smiled, relaxing into her mother's arms. The whole time she had been at the bakery last night, she had been thinking about her mother and father, about how Marinette had been so worried that Lila Rossi would send people after her family, and that she could do the same to Leïla's parents – if she knew who she was. And lately, her mother had been moving so slowly in the mornings; Leïla had left for the day before her mother was up almost every day for the last week. And at dinner recently, she had eaten so much more than normal. What could be wrong? Was this what her father had been referring to?

She had noticed something was different – or rather, a few little things here and there. At first she had dismissed it – stress, exhaustion, work, flu, any number of things could be causing this. But then the symptoms had persisted. Last night, sitting with Emilie and Sabine, Leïla had admitted her worries to them and asked for their advice. Sabine and Emilie and exchanged a look, some unspoken understanding passing between them, and Sabine had placed a hand on her stomach. Sighing, Emilie had simply suggested that she ask her mother about it. Leïla swallowed, hugging her mother tightly. She cocked her head, feeling a little more mass in her mother's belly. Before she could give it any more thought, her mother released her.

"It seems I've hardly seen you lately!" her mother mused, amusement in her voice. "I know it's summer, but I didn't expect you to be staying quite so busy. And with all the madness around the city over the last week – and especially last night – I admit I was a little worried."

Leïla frowned apologetically. "I'm sorry, umiy," she answered, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Her mother waved her hand dismissively. "It's a mother's prerogative to worry about her children! In a few years, I hope you will understand – though not too soon, you understand. But your father said that he knew you were okay, and I trusted in that." Leïla glanced over at her father – still that enigmatic smile. "But all the same, I hope I can convince you to stay in for a while? I could use a hand with the twins."

Leïla nodded. "I can," she agreed quickly. "But I was supposed to help abi at the clinic tomorrow."

"Only for a couple hours," her father called from the living room.

"Right." Leïla frowned. "Although, Marie had also invited me to join her and Sophie and Victoria in shopping for school clothes as well. She didn't give me a day or time for it, though…"

Her mother sighed. "I don't want to interfere with that – you have no idea how relieved I am to see you making friends in this school! I'm sure we can make that work…" Her face fell, glancing toward the living room as one of the twins let out a shriek of laughter, but only for a moment, before the other twin started to cry. "Or I hope so…"

Leïla shook her head. "No – it's okay," she quickly assured her mother. "I'm happy to help however I can with the twins. Or at least – most of the time." She swallowed nervously. "But if–if you need me to, I can spend less time with my friends–" or with the Heroes of Paris.

"I'm sorry for how often that has been necessary in the past," her mother told her. She grimaced. "Unfortunately, I may need your help a little more frequently, soon enough."

Leïla cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?" She furrowed her brows. "Does this have something to do with your illness?"

Her mother started, giving Leïla a confused look. "Wait, 'illness'?"

Leïla nodded. "I've noticed that you've been more exhausted lately. Nausea…"

Her mother smiled, stifling a laugh. "You are most definitely your father's daughter," she mused, shaking her head ruefully. Sighing affectionately, she placed a hand on Leïla's shoulder. "There are other possible explanations for those symptoms, doctor," she pointed out. "As a matter of fact, this is not an illness; it's a very natural part of a woman's life: I'm pregnant. You will have another sibling soon!"