The nursery

THREE NIGHTS LATER

The clock struck thirteen as Isadora bent over a workboard making a large batch of muffins for the sixth time in one day. Her arms ached for mercy, working every step of the way, manually. And as usual, Imelda watched intently hunched over her back, not once did her gaze depart from it.

"And that's it." Isadora stood upright, speaking to Imelda, one could see the fatigue in her eyes.

She wiped sweat off her forehead, "I only need to fill this into the mold and add some chocolate chips on it. There is no other special thing to the recipe."

"Why… just why?" Imelda murmured under her breath for the thousandth time, a solemn expression marred her features.

"It's the same process every single time, why doesn't mine work?" She whispered. Extremely weary both physically and mentally, on the brink of giving up.

Isadora could barely hear her mumble unintelligible words after that. Since breakfast three days ago, Imelda began to behave weird towards her… incredibly weird. In