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Nora groaned while rolling over on her bed; it was nearing two A.M, and she couldn’t get to sleep.  Her sister left the day before, early in the morning after only spending two hours with them, forced back to the States because of some problem with her YouTube account.  In part, she wondered if it was because she didn’t want to hang around; Fiona looked like she was having a blast in Miami.

Reaching over to her bedside table, she grabbed her phone from its wireless charger, pulling, and unlocked it.  It was already on the page she wanted; the time in Miami was eight-fifty-three P.M., five hours behind Ireland.

Is Fiona back at home?  She has to be … maybe she’s streaming.

She knew her sister wasn’t; she hadn’t gotten a notification.  Swapping to her second YouTube account, she swallowed, shifting to her side while activating Fiona’s last stream.  A small smile touched her lips as her sister stood in front of her streaming setup, laughing at the song requests her fans sent.

Her sister’s lovely voice held her attention for a moment, listening to her sing Toluca Lake by Tep No, and she remembered the times Fiona had sung only to her.

Nora’s focus slowly moved to the scrolling messages.

 

Potato Girl:  DANG, the first song gave me chills!

 

Chrisd2506: Oh, I love this song <3

 

Brown_luv: <3<3<3<3

 

G0ne_camping: I love your shirty today!  Hit that like button!

 

Daxton: No, DESTROY THAT LIKE BUTTON!

 

Seabrax: Bulletproof next, plz.  The Score sings in.

 

Nonumapu: I agree, last song was chilling!  Love the way you put your own twist on guccihighwaters’ amnesia song.

 

Ultron13: Right?  And how you swap out the swear words … I appreciate it for my kids.  I really do!  Some of these songs are so good, but I don’t want them to hear the cursing.  Like this song, it’s amazing.

 

Careyatc: Ew, Bulletproof, no!  Something like … The Day We Fell In Love by Nick Kingsley.

 

Holguinwifey: Shoutout to my daughter!  16th birthday, and she’s on her fifth date!

 

Giantsgirl805: What’s wrong with Bulletproof?  Oh, grats daughter!

 

Nora’s eyes centered on one message, the message she’d sent on her secret account.  How do you be yourself?  You’re always so confident.  Of course, it had been lost in the throng while her sister sang, causing her to release a depressed sigh, dropping her phone atop her chest.

Her sister’s voice continued to play, volume low to not alert her parents that she was still awake, but they were likely asleep.

After a few minutes, she went to a stream three days ago, following one of the few times her request was answered on her private account, and she listened to her sister sing Sympathy by Too Close To Touch.

Fiona had been a little confused about the song request, but a few people mimicked her plea.  Her music tastes had changed a lot over the years, unlike her sister’s more mellow tone, Nora had gotten more into heavier rock music.

Listening to her sister adapt the song twisted Nora’s lips into a sad smile as she listened to the words coming from Fiona’s throat, dropping her phone against her chest while closing her eyes.  No one could tell she was going through a rough time, and she desperately wanted to be more like her sister, but at the same time, she had grown to hate herself because of how impossible it was.

It all started in middle school when her sister started becoming popular in Clifden, and Nora, she was Fiona’s sister—that’s it.  Fiona was a little more than two years older than her, and her sister was a brilliant star in a small town, outshining her at everything.

Worse was the fact that Fiona never had any malicious intent.  Nora was pulled along the pre-established groups, locked into the famous person’s sister’s role, always the extra wheel at the party.  It became harder and harder for her to express herself when no one saw her, but if she played the part of Fiona’s younger sister, then people would listen.

Every high school dance, boys would only ask her out to get the chance to speak with Fiona, or recently, just to talk about what her sister was doing.  Boys only wanted to discuss her sister, and they’d compliment Fiona while not saying anything about Nora; Fiona was in the States, yet still, her sister’s image taunted her.

It was frustrating.  She loved Fiona; how could she hate her bright-eyed, loving sister, but Nora felt trapped in her body that everyone saw flaws with, frequently compared to her elder sister’s fairy-like existence.  Her thoughts turned back to passing comments that likely didn’t mean anything to the people asking, but struck her like a blow.

The local girls that had always been jealous of her sister took that frustration out on her since Fiona was much more vocal and dismissive of such remarks, blowing them off.  Nora tried, but they dug at her self-confidence, forcing her to wear masks around different people or avoid them.

Why do I have dimples when Fiona doesn’t?

Oh, Fiona doesn’t have freckles, but you do?

Are you related at all?

Your sister’s really pretty, huh?  Wait, she doesn’t have to use make-up, does she?

Yeah … and I do.

Oh, wait, she’s got everything, didn’t she?  Huh, sorry, Nora; life’s so unfair.

Can you sing?  Oh, right, I heard you in class; sucks to be the lesser sister.  Oh, younger sister, I mean!

Right … I get it.

Getting up, she flipped on her bedside lamp, moving to her desk mirror to stare at herself.

Nora’s long red hair was bound for bed, and she was wearing some of her black silky night shorts and a big blue T-shirt.  Her green eyes were lighter than her sister’s, and she wasn’t quite as radiant-looking; plus, Fiona had always been a bit thinner than her, and it wasn’t like she was overweight, but her sister was just perfect, Nora, not so much.

Her makeup had long been washed away in preparations for bed.  Forcing a smile, Nora leaned in to glare at her mortal enemies, dimples, and freckles, both inherited from her mother, like most of her hated features.

Why did I have to get so much of Mom’s side in my looks?  Aunt Eachna is so pretty, and she can sing, too … no wonder Fiona gets so much attention; she got all of Dad’s genetics.

A lump dropped down her throat, and she closed her eyes, trying to imagine how her life would be if she were her talented sister.

Is there anywhere where I can belong … just being myself?  No one wants to talk about what I’m doing … it’s all about Fiona.  Even Mom and Dad … it’s worry about Fiona in the States, twenty-four-seven.  I’m invisible unless Fiona’s mentioned.

If I looked different … wasn’t this, then maybe I’d be worth something more … more than just Fiona’s less talented, ugly little sister.

Her light green eyes shifted to her phone on the desk, turning on Bedroom Hymn by Too Close To Touch.  Tucking in her lower lip, she groaned, resting her forehead against her forearms atop the desk while connecting to the music.

I’m so insecure … no, no one needs to save me!  I’m just complaining over nothing—the real me is just a loser, that’s why no one wants to know me.  Fiona did everything on her own.  Still … am I really living if no one truly sees me?  Is it anyone’s fault, or is it because I can’t tell anyone—why can’t I tell anyone?  If only I was someone else—something else…

A few minutes passed before a reverberation fluctuated within her; body stiff, her head shot up, eyes slowly focusing on her mirror, and she screamed, chair flying back as she stumbled away from her reflection.

Her skin was changing to a plum purple, and before her eyes, her skin was rapidly melting.  She tried to shout, to express what she was seeing, but her voice came out as a gurgle, vision becoming black after a few seconds.  She was thrust into a void, her bones like gelatin.

No, no, no!  What … it feels like I’m drowning—I can’t breathe anymore!  Why can’t I…

Nora tried grasping her neck, mind in a panic as oxygen refused to fill her lungs, but her limbs didn’t feel normal, and all she managed to do was slide back and forth.  She was formless.  Worse, something rigid and flat was sliding past her—or was it the other way around?

She couldn’t breathe, smell, but as she dropped into an abyss, a bland flavor touched her tongue.  Swallowing the substance, she coughed; it tasted like dirt.  Rejecting the substance, Nora squirmed, trying to move as a heavy, squishy object landed against her butt.

Get off me!  What’s going on?  No, no, I’m a puddle … I melted!  Why am I alive?

The squishy pressure eased, and she started to notice reverberations that traveled up her body.

Why can’t I see?  Is there an earthquake?

It took her a minute to realize she wasn’t suffocating and calm down.

I’m not dead, right?  No … I’m thinking, but—why can’t I breathe?  Wait, if I melted—I don’t want to die … what am I now … a Mimic Slime—I’m an Aberationkin, Mimic Slime.

Her mind blanked; the answer was undoubtedly correct with the information flooding in, but the reality didn’t connect with the report.

What does that mean?  I’m not human … I’m not … no, I have to be.  If I’m not human … what am I … no, I know—no, no, I can’t be … I have to … what do I do?

Her jelly-like frame trembled as the knowledge inside her responded.

Consume … mimic.

It was then that the hunger rippled through her mind, something slowly starving her, and the truth burned her insides.

Why do I feel … no, get out—get out of my head!  Just get out of my head!  Please, she begged, please, get out.

Nora’s mind was gradually giving in to the urge to find something, anything to satisfy the bottomless pit growing in her gut.  Her body tensed, slowly inching forward.  The panic was being suppressed by the ravaging hole opening in her chest.

Stop … before I cave in … get out … please.

It was starting to sink in; she knew what a slime was and had seen a few erotic monster romantic anime that had them in it, but this didn’t feel sweet or innocent.  A pulsating craving pushed her forward; instincts she’d never felt before drawing her to search.

Nora was becoming aware of her surroundings as she moved, sensory information feeding back to her strange new malleable organs; the mildly dirty carpet was easy to seep through, and her liquified form wrapped around the small cracks in the floorboards underneath.

Dropping under the house, she found the secretions left by animals, pheromones, and other semiochemical compounds absorbed into her body.  Inching, little by little, her hunger deepened by the second.

A path of sticky liquid was left in her wake as she cried, forced on by an urge to feed upon anything living; what felt like millions of hands grasping for anything editable.  She sucked in molds, mushrooms, mildews, and yeasts that grew in the dark environment; dissolved any form of sponge, worm, or insect she came across, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Make it stop … it burns … stop, please … I’m starving!

A new trail caught her attention; something fresh had recently crossed this area.  Her shuffle increased, chasing after the one thing that might stop the pain wracking her body.

She found it, inches ahead of her as it batted against her side, but she latched on, millions of fingers closing around the creature.  Desperately pulling it in, she wrapped around the figure, embracing it.

The most lovely, warm embrace filled her as it struggled in her arms, but it was so comforting; she couldn’t let go, tightening her grip as it flailed, and the more compact she came, encircling the creature in a fever that filled the gaping cavity in her chest, the more complete she felt.

It’s so hot … something’s swelling inside me … I can’t let go … I can’t lose it!

Without it inside her, the world was cold, incomplete, torturous, but with it, she was whole.

She wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but she’d never felt so at peace, and once it was over, a part of that serenity left.  However, it was bearable; she could think again, feel something besides the irascible itch inside her.

Once her mind cleared, she knew without a doubt what had just happened, and even if she now had the peace of reflective thought, chilling thoughts entered, shattering the bliss she’d felt before.

I … ate something … did I eat…

She searched for the knowledge in terror, and a modicum of relief flooded her system when it responded.

A cat … I ate a cat … I actually ate a cat…

The guilt that followed pressed in, but the feelings were soon washed away as she began rationalizing it.

I couldn’t help myself … I was starving—anyone would eat a cat if they’re starving—Korea, China, umm, even the Swiss eat cats.  It’s not like I ate a person.  Wait … what’s this?

Her mind shifted directions as an option opened during her internal debate.

Mimic?  I can consume and mimic my victims.

Half out of curiosity, she activated it.  Air-filled her lungs, millions of sounds opened up to her mind, and the light blinded her eyes; the only things that differed slightly were her sense of touch, taste, and the colors she saw.

She blinked, adjusting her sight as she moved her neck back and forth, claws flexing out to dig into soft soil.  The experience was bizarre at first, but soon, the cat’s feral instincts filtered into her body, muscle memory reacting.

Her tail flicked as she sat, dropping to her back to stare at her belly, arms and legs twisting to give her different angles.

I’m a cat?  A male cat?  Well … that’s disturbing.  Wait … my name … Iósaf.  I’m the Colla’s cat … I ate the Colla’s cat.

Memories were slowly flooding into her mind; Iósaf was pretty angry at Damhnait Colla, the matriarch of the family was usually too busy with the new baby to properly feed Iósaf in a proper schedule, causing the cat to dislike the woman.

Néamh Colla, on the other hand, was very prompt with the food, arriving back in Iósaf’s kingdom at the same time during the same days with little variance.

He wasn’t too fond of the new child, either, since it did make a lot of noise that frightened him, but it did share in its strange food every so often, offering tribute, which was acceptable.

It wasn’t like Nora’s temperament or mannerisms changed by transforming into Iósaf, and she could clearly identify between herself and him.  Still, if she wished, she could act fairly confidently, impersonating the feline.

Nora righted herself, staring up at several birds that chirmed high-pitched sounds that she’d never heard as a human.  However, she still couldn’t understand the creatures, but they did look like a tasty meal for Iósaf, and Nora begrudgingly agreed.

However, it wasn’t like she was really that hungry, and honestly, as a cat, she felt more of an urge to eat like a cat than as a Slime.

She pranced onward, mind abuzz with questions; she could hear strange mumbles and shouts around her, but the words were entirely foreign to her, like listening to a dog bark, which hurt her ears and drew deep dislike, bringing back images of massive creatures looming over Iósaf.

Her passive questions kept filling in the blanks as knowledge flooded her brain, but one question halted her in her tracks.

How many things can I turn into at a time … one.  One?  One!  Umm, hehe, okay, so, can I turn back into a human … no.  Wait…

Cold sweats broke out across her body.

I want to be a human.

No response.

How can I be a human … eat a human … no … is there no other way … there’s not!  Why?  Tell me!

The realization numbed her mind, and her last wish returned to mind.

I said … I don’t want to be me … I didn’t want to be me, but—I didn’t want to be a Slime.  I can’t return to my body … I’ll never look like me—Nora … ever … I’d look completely different.  I didn’t mean it like that … I didn’t … did I?  I know I hated myself, but—but this is just—extreme … too extreme.

No matter how much she thought, she knew it was impossible to take it back.

How do I see my parents again … I’d need to … wait, can’t I speak … no, I can’t speak any human languages anymore.  No … this isn’t what I wanted!

A low, sad meow rumbled in her throat as she wailed.

“I just want to go back home!  I want my Dad…”

“Shut-up!”  Replied a gruff voice.

Ears pulled back, Nora’s eyes lifted to see one of the stray cats in the area.

“Didn’t I warn you not to come to this part of the road?”  He hissed, jumping down.

A high-pitch hiss left Nora’s own mouth as she backed up.  “Please, I don’t want any trouble … I’m—I’m a human!”

The cat stopped before going into the street, and she knew he was giving her a quizzical look, momentarily blocked by a car that passed along the road.

Without making any sort of noise, Nora somehow understood the cat as he wordlessly communicated his questions through small actions in his stare, and she was somehow able to do the same with her own body-language, speaking the cryptic language.

 “You seriously think you’re like those two-legs that dote on you?”

“I am—I changed into this by eating—eating this cat I look like…”

“Huh?  You’re one strange guy,” he said in a mumble, crossing the street as the traffic cleared.  “You changed into…”

His eyes widened, spine stiffening into a high arch as he did the strange cat sideways dance, retreating slightly with a sharp hiss.  “You’re not Iósaf!  I—something’s strange about you!”

“I told you!  I’m a girl—a human girl!”

“No—you can’t fool me!  I don’t know what you are!”  He ran off, creating loud noises to tell other cats of her.

Even cats don’t want to be around me…

Nora’s ears drooped, eyes falling to the grass.

What should I do … I want to go home, but—but what if I eat Mom and Dad?  I can’t!  Fiona would never forgive me—I’d never forgive me.  Wait … can I eat a corpse and take on its appearance … yes!  I just need to find the coroner’s office … I’ve never been there; I don’t know where it is in town.

Running around town, Nora looked for a suitable deceased human candidate.  She met many cats, and most of them were wary of her, but not because she was a Slime or an imposter like the cat before.  It seemed that she’d given herself away, and it took another feline brushing up against her to notice the strange wet sensation her transformation couldn’t hide.

She did get into an altercation every so often, and each time, she reversed the transformation instead of fighting like a cat, swallowing the creatures to take on their memories of the city.  It wasn’t perfect and took time to digest the information; she retained everything from the previous prey but didn’t gain any additional memories after abandoning the form.

Every new feast brought the warm, comforting sensation of being made whole, and she began fearing that she’d grown addicted to the serenity that came from smothering a foe within her digestive fluids.  In fact, her gut told her everything was fine as she began enjoying the aspect of mimicking the creatures she took on, moving between cats, birds, mice, and a stray dog.

The different experiences each had to offer were thrilling, taking on someone that had friends.  She was currently a stray female Golden Retriever named Jenny that had likely been abandoned by a traveling couple from the dog’s memories.  They hadn’t been the best owners in the first place, from what she’d discovered so far, and found a decent place to find food in the back of local diners.

She’d been a pretty smart dog, knowing the right times to scavenge not to be yelled at or chased off, and a few of the dogs with owners in the area were pretty friendly to her, but it was no doubt her looks, from what she’d discovered upon meeting a few of them.

One little Bichon Frise had left a pretty big impression with giving her two bones.  She strutted away, bones in her jaws while wagging her tail in a manner that had the male dogs salivating near the jogging area where owners exercised with their pets, making the owners pull on their leashes.

A giggle shook Nora’s slender frame.

Jenny was a real charmer in life … it’s so different than how I feel!  I can take on the characteristics of the creatures I morph into—that’s so freaking awesome!

She dropped to her side, sides puffing as she gnawed on the bone; it was surprisingly fulfilling.  Mentally, she had no idea why it was so enthralling, but if she allowed the dog’s instincts past the restrictive barrier she could use to separate herself from the morphed creature, she found extreme pleasure in the act.

Her focus had slowly shifted from becoming human again to figuring out the pleasures of living another creature’s life, and she continued to justify the actions with every transformation.  With every new meal, the thought of her hunger went further to the back of her mind; she had plenty of resources that were continuing to be digested inside her, smothered to the point of entering her seemingly bottomless stomach that acted like a black hole.

It’s the circle of life, really.  I mean, it’s not like I’ll eat humans, but we eat animals all the time!  Plus, it’s not like people will miss anyone I’ve eaten … well, except Iósaf, and I can’t really be blamed for that!  I was literally starving; I couldn’t think straight.  There are plants that eat insects, animals that eat insects, and humans that eat animals.

The tantalizing forbidden fruit that taunted the back of her mind grew as she continued to experience more lives, a feeling rather than a thought.  What would it be like to live as a human … in a different family than mine … if I wasn’t Nora?

She paused, feeling the guilt return as the feeling surfaced for a moment.

No, no!  I’m not a monster!  I’m Nora; I know exactly who I am … I’m not a monster.  This is … it’s necessary … but no, it’s not.

If she could, tears would have fallen from her eyes; instead, her face fell, head resting against her front paws as she sorted through what few memories she had obtained of Jenny’s life.  It would probably take months to fully integrate the full span of even a dog’s past, essentially becoming Jenny, if she chose to stay in this form.

I’m caving … this Slime I’ve turned into … how am I this weak?  No, I’ve always been weak … Fiona wouldn’t lose to something like this … she’d keep her humanity.  Why, though … why me?

Her head darted up as Jenny’s instincts told Nora there was danger nearby, head darting to the right as she heard a particular, familiar squeaking.  She rose to her feet, staring down the alley she was currently using to hide from the public eye.

It’s gotta be Renvyle Cat and Dog Rescue … I’ve seen them around town before.  Of course, they’d be called about some stray messing with the male dogs!

Nora’s head darted to the right, noting that the path was blocked.

Shoot!  I was so stupid … a dog brain!  Well, I could just turn back into a Slime and play as a puddle or something.  Yeah, let’s do that.

Her Golden Retriever form melted away as she reverted the transformation; the world turned black, and all sounds vanished.

She hummed inside her head with an internal smirk as she felt the hard pressure of something stepping on her.

That’s right, no dog here, Mr. Dog Catcher.  Go to the next route.  I’m just an innocent little pool of…

Something wet struck what felt like her chest, and her gut tightened upon analyzing the substance.

Saliva … spit?  You seriously just spat on me!

She knew that it wasn’t on purpose, but since the fifth-grade, when Mealla Ní Liatháin had her two cronies force her down and slowly dribble the bully’s spit on her face, she’d had an aversion to the act.

Mind in a rage, she transformed back into the Golden Retriever, vision clearing as she watched the man slowly walking away with his hands in his pockets, grumbling some unintelligible words.  Instinctively, she knew he was having a bad day, but she didn’t care.

Running at the Dog Catcher, she jumped, barrelling into the man; he cried out, flying forward as she recovered.  Wuickly positioning herself at his lower half, she drew back her leg, and slammed her foot into his crotch as hard as she could.

He squeaked, curling into a ball, likely releasing expletives while clutching his bruised berries.

Nora barked once, growled, and ran off as he stumbled to his feet, yelling gibberish at her, still obviously unsteady.

Snickering, she ran off, and over the next few days, the Dog Catcher made a habit of chasing her, and shockingly, she found a lot of fun in a man giving her so much attention.  She spent much of her time messing with him, and he still hadn’t discovered her real identity.

This is the best I’ve felt in my life!  I don’t want this to end … but … no, am I missing something?  I know there should be something that I need to do…

Her attention was rediverted by a handsome Siberian Husky named Gambit that had been making quite a few advances toward her, and Jenny liked teasing him, meaning Nora could find pleasure in it all the same.

“I’ve never talked to a girl like you, Jenny!”  Gambit hummed, panting slightly as she followed him and his owner as they jogged.

His owner apparently enjoyed the company she brought; after all, she had found a fake collar the day before to give herself more credibility and always returned to a homeless man on the bench to give the impression he was her owner.  The hobo didn’t seem to mind her company, and it was a decent cover.

“Of course, not,” Nora giggled.  “I’m not from around here, and you’ve lived here all your life.  I’ve been all over Ireland.”

“Ah, this Ireland again,” he hummed with interest.  “That’s what this big place you say is … this whole planet?”

“No, no,” Nora chided.

She mixed her own knowledge with Jenny’s popular image within the dog’s mind to attract Gambit.  He seemed to enjoy the grand, impossible ideas, but he couldn’t doubt the fact that she’d traveled.  Dogs were so much more straightforward than humans, and she felt special for once in her life, pushing back the need to return home and inform her parents of her transformation.

“The world is bigger than Ireland, a lot bigger!  I’m talking about—hmm, umm—oh, I got it!  If you take Ireland, you follow?”

“Mhm?”  The Huskey gave her a charming smile.

“Right, Ireland, and you take all the bones you’ve had in your life!”

“That’s a lot of bones,” Gambit mumbled.

“Yeah, and if you take all of those, and times it by Ireland, it wouldn’t even fit the whole world!”

“That’s … my mind’s cat poop after that one.”

Nora laughed.  “Right?”

She spent the next few minutes flirting before breaking off to return to the hobo; Gambit asking if they’d see each other the next day, which she promised in the affirmative.

The hobo smiled at her as she neared.  He was a nice guy, reaching over; he took out a few bags of dog treats he had somehow obtained, offering her one.

Score!

Nora accepted it from his hand, allowing him to rub her head.

No, not there!

She moaned, unheard by the man since it was more of a gesture than a sound; he found the spot by her ear that caused her body to burn with pleasure, hind leg rising to reflexively scratch her side.

After he’d finished, he went back to playing his guitar, using it to prompt people to offer money for his street performance.  It was pretty clear the first time he’d pet her; he was surprised how wet she felt when her fur looked perfectly dry, but it was quickly dismissed.

Nora bit into the treat; it tasted like vanilla ice cream to her dog’s tongue.

Her brown eyes looked up after she’d finished.  Honestly, the guitar and singing he did weren’t terrible to her ears, but she couldn’t be sure since it sounded vastly different than what she was accustomed to as a human.  It was strange he’d be in Clifden, to begin with, but she guessed they did get decent tourists to the city.

She’d started to recognize a shift in her small town’s atmosphere, though; a lot of the tourists had stopped coming over the last few days, and she’d even seen a few strange movies that looked like the news through the windows of a local barbershop.

Was it just me that changed?  I haven’t seen anyone else.

Her head dropped to the ground, resting on her paws as her mind returned to her family.

Are they even looking for me?  I haven’t seen Mom or Dad around, but it’s not like I know his scent or anything … still, maybe they did forget about me.  Aren’t I the stupid one that’s delaying it, though … I just want them to worry about me … just me.  Just a bit longer.

Her heart was conflicted; on the one hand, she felt so happy, and yet, it wasn’t like this was her life.  She’d stolen Jenny’s life, and the frightening part was that that detail didn’t quite bother her that much anymore.  No, what bothered her was that she’d been a ghost to her family all along, and the fact they hadn’t found her yet meant they didn’t care.

No matter how many times she told herself it wasn’t right, she couldn’t help the depression settling in again, and to counter that, she lived as Jenny.  In a rare instance of clarity, Nora’s jaw locked, body tensing as if she were in a nightmare.  Her moan caught the hobo’s attention, he stopped playing as she cried inside.

No … this isn’t right … get out of my head!  I want my Mom and Dad … Fiona—help me—save me … I’m caving in.

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