The banshee had warned that they would be thrown out if they were discovered by the mansion staff, as they would no longer be recognized. But surely with the staff and Christine aware of the haunted goings on, Rusty could make her case and be believed. Right?
Rusty got up from the rocking chair. Locating a baby sling, she put the sling on and then carefully placed her sweet, darling, sleeping Marcia inside. Marcia continued sleeping peacefully and adorably. Rusty exited the nursery. Christine had said she would be in the library if they needed her. And they definitely needed her.
Unfortunately, Rusty had never been good with directions. That was more Marcia’s area. And the mansion was enormous and confusing. After covering sleeping Marcia’s ears instinctively, Rusty muttered a swear under her breath as she turned down yet another dead end. She sighed. Marcia sighed as well. Rusty looked down. There was a soft hissing sound coming from her baby. Rusty groaned. Why didn’t she grab diapers before she left the nursery? Clearly, Marcia was going to need more changes.
Rusty carefully checked Marcia’s diaper. It was soaked through. She needed a fresh one. With a sigh, Rusty turned around to return to the nursery. However, retracing her steps went about as well as searching for the library had. She couldn’t find the nursery! Finding herself in front of a random door, Rusty opened it. To her relief, it revealed a massive room with floor to ceiling bookshelves. And sitting right by the door was Christine, reading something.
“Christine!” Rusty said eagerly. Christine looked up. She frowned at Rusty.
“Who are you?”
“It’s me, Rusty.”
“Really,” Christine said flatly. Rusty nodded. She indicated Marcia in the sling.
“This is Marcia.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, come on! You know weird magic things are happening in your mansion! That’s why you called us here!”
“True enough,” Christine muttered. She crossed her arms. “If you’re Rusty, how did you end up like this?”
“A banshee turned Marcia into a baby, then turned me into her mother.”
“Banshees are portents of death. You really expect me to believe one could do something like that?”
“I’m as surprised as you,” Rusty said firmly. Still asleep, baby Marcia scrunched her face up in concentration. She began to grunt. Rusty bit back another groan of frustration. She hadn’t realized babies were such poop factories! How could tiny Marcia even produce so much poop?
“Look, I’m going to need some proof if I’m to believe you,” Christine said firmly. “It’s quite an ask of me to believe a banshee of all things made a man a lactating woman and turned a professional woman into a baby reliant upon diapers.” Marcia finished grunting and sighed. She shifted in her sling a bit, then opened her eyes. She looked up at Rusty in confusion. Rusty beamed. This was perfect! Once Marcia spoke, Christine had to believe her!
Marcia opened her mouth.