"Brittany, please tell us what's wrong!" pleaded Eleanor.
"Leave me alone!" Brittany sobbed.
The eldest Chipette had been crying for hours and refused to come out of the bathroom.
"Brit," Jeanette knocked gently on the door. "Why don't you come out and talk to us! Whatever the problem is, we'll get through it!"
Brittany didn't answer.
Eleanor shook her head.
"I guess we're gonna to have to resort to plan B!"
"What's that?" Jeanette asked, confused.
Eleanor raised her voice so she knew Brittany would hear.
"Well, I happen to know that Simon and Jeanette have been working with mice for a school project! Maybe if we let loose a couple..."
There was a pause.
"You wouldn't," came Brittany's voice.
"We would!" Eleanor and Jeanette said together.
"I thought you loved me! What kind of sisters are you?"
"Ones who care about you and want to know what's wrong!" said Eleanor, placing her hand on the doorknob. "Come on, open up!"
Brittany opened the door.
She was a pathetic sight; her cheeks inflamed; her eyes red and puffy; her pink silk nightgown streaked with tears.
She collapsed into Eleanor's arms, letting loose a shuddering sob.
"Oh, it's okay, Brittany! We'll help you through it!" Eleanor rocked her sister gently, back and forth, back and forth…
Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
But daddy will catch it, cradle and all.
Dave sang softly, stroking Theodore's back.
The youngest of the chipmunks had started crying in the middle of the night, and only Dave could calm him.
"Is he asleep?" Simon whispered.
"I think so," Dave responded, his voice quivering.
Simon bowed his head and sighed.
"Oh, Alvin…what we hath wrought…" he whispered.
Dave stood up from Theodore's bed, then looked to Simon.
"Do you want me to sing you to sleep?"
"Oh, come now, Dave! I'm sixteen years old!"
"So is Theodore."
"Yes, please," Simon flushed, embarrassed.
Dave tucked his second-eldest son into bed, then began singing.
Hush, little baby, don't say a word
Daddy's gonna buy you a mocking bird…
"I'm so lonely!" Brittany wailed.
"You miss Alvin?" Jeanette asked, stroking her sister's hand.
"O…of…course not!" Brittany regained her composure, forcing herself to stop crying. "I…I'm fine now. Let's just go to bed…"
"No, no!" frowned Eleanor. "It took us an hour to get you to come out of the bathroom-another two hours to worm this much out of you; you're gonna tell us what's wrong!"
"Stop interrogating me!" Brittany snapped, pulling her hand out from under Eleanor's.
"Fine!" the youngest Chipette responded. "But I think it would be better if you talked with us!"
"Alright, alright! I'm worried about Alvin! I wouldn't care less about what happened if I just…if I just knew…he wasn't hurt!"
Brittany burst into tears.