It doesn’t take long for Laura to make her decision. Not only does she know the library has diapers, she knows where it is. She pushes on the door. Her heart sinks. It’s locked! Panicking, Laura looks up, trying to figure out how to unlock it, but in her state of horror, she can’t figure out how to unlock it.
Laura throws herself at the door desperately. Nothing happens. She looks back at the seat. In theory, she might be able to get out that way. But she can’t bring herself to do that. All she can bring herself to do is cry like the toddler she is. She wails loudly, not caring who hears her.
There’s some sort of commotion outside, but Laura just continues to wail. Suddenly, the door is ripped open, shocking Laura into silence and peeing again. The construction worker who opened the door stares down at her. Humiliated, Laura resumes crying.
“Oh, geez,” the construction worker, a big, burly man, says. He takes off his shirt, clumsily wraps Laura in it, and then takes her out of the port-a-potty. A crowd of other construction workers gathers, dumbfounded by the situation.
“What happened?” asks one.
“Don’t know. I heard crying in the port-a-potty, so I yanked the door open – you know how it gets stuck sometimes – and I saw this little girl inside! Completely naked! No diaper or anything!”
“That’s no good.”
“They’ve got clothes for kids at that library nearby, right?” asks the construction worker holding Laura. “Think someone could grab something for her?”
“I’m on it!” says a worker, already rushing off the site.
“Of course he’s on it, he takes any excuse to leave,” mutters the only woman that Laura can see. “Should we call the police?”
“I don’t know. I think maybe an ambulance. Who knows what might have happened to this little girl?” the construction worker holding Laura says. The woman nods.
“You’re right, Steve. I’ll go make a call.” The woman walks away. The man holding Laura, Steve, walks over to a nearby bench and sits down, holding Laura tightly. Exhausted from everything that’s happened and finally feeling safe in the man’s arms, Laura passes out.
When Laura awakes, she’s been dressed and diapered, and is now buckled into a baby carrier.
“Whewe,” she whispers weakly. Someone peers into the baby carrier, smiling. Laura shrinks back.
“Hi, sweetie,” coos the man looking at her. He removes her from the baby carrier. Laura notes that he’s wearing scrubs. That, combined with her new surroundings, suggests she’s now in a hospital. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Lawa.”
“Lara? How pretty! Do you know your last name?” the man asks. Laura shakes her head. She doesn’t want to give her full name. “I thought so.”
Despite her nap, Laura’s still incredibly tired. Her eyelids droop. All she wants is to sleep again. After some rest, she can make an escape plan.