“The police station,” one police officer says, with a tone that suggests his answer should have been obvious. The woman finishes wiping Laura down and tapes a fresh diaper on her. After a moment, she slips a T-shirt over Laura’s head.
“There, don’t want you to be too chilly,” the woman coos, poking Laura’s nose playfully. She hands Laura over to the policemen. “She can keep the shirt.”
“Understood.” The policemen bring Laura out of the house and to their car, where she is buckled into a car seat. Luckily, the police station is only a few blocks away, so the ride isn’t very long. As Laura is carried into the police station, she catches sight of the building across the street from the precinct. Her eyes widen. It’s the magic shop! The one that her dice came from! She can practically taste her freedom.
All she needs to do is get out of the station without being caught. Which, admittedly, is going to be difficult. Nevertheless, she suckles on her pacifier joyfully as she is carried past desks and into the station’s small daycare.
“Another mystery tot, huh?” the person presumably running the daycare says when she’s handed Laura.
“Yes,” says the policeman. “Her name is Laura. We’re working on tracking down her family, but in the meantime-”
“Say no more. I know the drill.” Once Laura is logged into the system, she is plopped down in the daycare play area, next to a boy who looks too old to be wearing a diaper. “Here, Laura. Play with Mason. He’s two, too.” Laura looks doubtfully at Mason. “Don’t worry, he’s just big for his age.” The daycare worker walks away, leaving Laura and Mason alone. Mason glares at Laura.
“I’m not a baby like you,” he hisses. “I’m really six.” Laura crosses her arms.
“Why you tell me?” she asks.
“No one would believe a dumb baby in a diaper.”
“You in diapy, too,” Laura points out. Mason smirks.
“Yeah, but I control when I use it.” A look of concentration passes his face. There’s a soft hiss. “Like just now. I peed. But I made that decision.” The daycare worker comes over. She checks Mason’s diaper.
“Hmm. Just wet. Buddy, if you don’t make boom-boom soon, I’ll have to give you some prune juice. Try to go poopy for me, okay?” Mason nods. The second the daycare worker walks away, Mason squats and begins to grunt. Laura scoots away from the six-year-old pooping in a diaper on purpose. The daycare worker hears Mason’s grunts and comes back over.
Once Mason finishes messing himself, he’s brought away to be changed. All Laura can do is wonder why someone old enough to be in first grade is pretending to be two, even though it entails using a diaper.