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Author's Chapter Notes:

Last chapter!

            Carly’s forehead was pressed to her trembling wrists like a prayer as she huddled into herself against the furthest corner of her glass prison: the best chance for refuge, though such a thing was impossible to find here. By now so many tears had been spent down the crook of her neck and sopped through her makeshift jumpsuit that a glistening puddle had formed between her legs and even begun to trickle past her toes.

            Before she had her tiny brother back under her feet, Carly realized she’d become listless. Not just a girl who’d lost her way, but a goddess without a world to rule. Nothing had particularly mattered to her for the past eighteen months, and why should it?

            Whatever flame that had burned low until the age of fourteen, then ascended into a blazing inferno within her full heart for the next half-decade as she claimed the part of existence that belonged to her, had dimmed down to its last dying embers. And she didn’t care in the slightest.

            But now that he was back in her orbit, and back in reach of her soft and gracious fingertips, even if he couldn’t appreciate the significance of it yet, something had reignited inside the girl. The light was rising higher again, searing behind her eyes, with a fury like none other she’d felt before.

            Carly couldn’t surrender now. Not when he was out there somewhere, alone, poisoned by hollowing years of lies and vile fantasies of importance that everyone else had planted in his head. Much longer and he might never be brought back to her side. It made her want to vomit imagining him returned to the height he so wrongfully held in his youth. And as a final deluge of tears gushed down Carly’s cheeks, her eyes at last dried of all sorrow and stung only by the congealed rage at the basin of her soul, her sweat-soaked palms recoiled into fists.

            She was getting out of here, one way or another, tracking Jack down, and gluing the status quo of the universe back together.

            No matter how much time, no matter how much teaching it took, no matter how many walls she had to break down, she would regain her little brother’s heart and mind for her own.

            And he would come to love her as his personal savior again.

            “C-Carly?”

            There was little room for Michelle’s prodding squeak of a voice inside the pounding supernova currently swirling inside Carly’s golden head, but the stuttered call made it in nonetheless. Batting the last flecks of strained moisture from her eyelashes, the miniscule girl steadily began to unfold her limbs back out again, nearly slipping in the collected pool of tears surrounding her, and stumbled to her feet, looking up to the raven-haired assistant, standing earnestly behind the glass, concern etched into her tight features.

            “What?” Carly mouthed, though no sound came out.

            “I… I made you something,” the woman said. Her left hand came into view of the glass cage, demonstrating a hand-stitched baby-blue top and skirt scaled perfectly for a nearly-three-inch-tall girl with a slim, athletic build. She brandished the ensemble proudly between her thumb and forefinger.

            “Why?” Carly questioned numbly.

            “I wanted you to be… more comfortable,” Michelle offered. She mechanically reached over the translucent wall and deposited the clothing in front of Carly, retracting her hand immediately and blinking between her charge’s face and the peace offering.

            “Is that… allowed?”

            “S-Sort of. You can’t wear it if we need to test you for something else, but you’ve been cooperative, so a few days ago Claire told me I could… you know, if I wanted to, make you… something. To wear,” Michelle coughed. “Do you… want to try it on?”

            Shrugging, Carly tugged the itchy beige excuse for a garment off her back and let the it land at her feet, instead snatching up the blue top and skirt. She noted the towering joke of a petite woman before her flinching and pretending not to gawk at the sight of the shrunken prisoner stripped down to her skivvies.

            The outfit was some mildly impressive work, considering how small it was. It even matched the color of her eyes, Carly realized. A detail only Michelle would’ve been able to pick up on given their time together, really. Once she had it pulled over her head, she graced Michelle with another glance, running her hands along the fabric. It was mercifully less reminiscent of a crusty sponge than what she’d been wearing before.

            “Thanks,” Carly said nonchalantly.

            “Does it feel all right? I tried to go off the measurements she had me take, so I thought it would…” the woman mumbled, placing a hand cautiously over her mouth.

            “It feels fine.”

            “Good,” Michelle sighed, crossing her arms over her stomach and bowing her head.

            “What?” Carly asked softly, slipping easily back into placation mode. She allowed the residual twinkle in her eyes to work to her advantage as she stepped daintily across the span of the tank, eventually pressing her hands to the glass and looking out on the metallic landscape with greater purpose.

            “Carly, we have… an extra test to run,” the woman said. “Nothing painful and it won’t take long.”

            “That’s it?”

            “Yes. I’ll tell you about it on the way.” With that, the woman’s olive-skinned hand swept back into the tank, palm upturned before Carly, pausing just short of scooping her up.

            Puzzled and already engrossed in deconstructing the woman’s hyper-anxious façade, Carly hopped easily into the cool hand and rose up out of her cage.

            The exit from the room and into the bunker tunnel was brisk, more businesslike than any Carly had yet experienced in Michelle’s hands, though the door was shut with such care it hardly made a sound. Carly assumed it couldn’t be that she’d fallen out of her good graces, though, since Michelle had just spent apparently all of her recent free time in this moldy hellhole making doll accessories for her not-so-secret admiree. Raising an eyebrow, Carly watched the testing room approach and then pass them by as Michelle turned a corner she hadn’t yet during the youngest Arton’s stay here.

            “Where are we going?” Carly whispered. “What are you-”

            “I’m doing the right thing for once.”

            “You mean you’re going to-”

            “I won’t let anything happen to another one of you.”

            “Another one of… what does that mean?”

            “Just one more minute, I swear,” Michelle hissed, cupping her other palm over Carly’s body and shrouding her in darkness and heat for a few more moments before elbowing her way through another door.

            Peeking between the enormous pale fingers, Carly could make out a cot and set of drawers: Michelle’s quarters. The woman was finally seeing the light. A smile bulged over Carly’s tiny lips, out of her handler’s view.

 

            Your sky has become human.

            Human flesh, to be exact: spiraled like ripples in an endless pool of peach and amber, dotted by the odd speckle of filth crusted into the ever-shifting pink muscles and billowing wrinkles. Every huffed breath you take fills your lungs with the earthy and oily aroma leaked from a thousand feminine pores across the undulating sole. It constricts your chest, every second replacing the damp, aluminum-flavored oxygen of this underground bunker with Sophie’s skin, defiantly dragged down the hallway and glossed with anxious sweat long-dried and re-dried over the hills of her instep. On the outside, partially closed off by the heat-consuming seal created by your cousin’s flesh sticking and unsticking from the cold white floor, you can hear her teardrops plunking just beyond your reach.

            But it doesn’t matter. At least not for you. Even as Claire forces your beloved best friend to hover her sole above you, just as a final warning of the consequences for dissension at this stage of her scientific crusade, your shoulders remain light, untethered to the fears of a mere half-hour ago.

            You’re free. You’re finally free.

            Physically, of course, you’re still just shy of three inches tall. You’re still trapped in God-Knows-Where, America, about to be used for god-knows-what purpose by god-knows-who, while your comparatively titanic cousin, just as physically imprisoned as you, is forced to pretend-stamp you with as little body weight as she can conjure.

            But Carly is finished. No matter if she gains back her nearly six feet of former might, receives your hapless body as a gift, strips you back to your inhuman bareness, and spends every hour of every day for the rest of your probably concurrent lives with you wedged sweatily under a sopping, humid, flowery sole in the black hell of her favorite flats. None of that means a thing inside your head, and you know inside hers as well.

            You win.

            “For shit’s sake, no need to give yourself a hernia, dear,” Claire chuckles to Sophie as she leans against the keyboarded workbench just beyond the square white field you now find yourself encased in, within what you presume to be a testing facility, if it can be called that in this meager garbage pit of a lab. “I’m just trying to make a point.”

            “I… t-think I… know n-now… c-can I p-please stop this?” your cousin begs, wrenching your guts a little harder at the pain in her voice, muffled as it is by the shifting ceiling of foot flesh currently occupying your whole worldview. Light seeps in between the plush cracks of her sole on occasion, but for the most part, it’s just you, flush against Sophie’s foot. Two years ago, and probably a day ago, were you in this exact same position, you would be playing kisses upon every curved surface, violently jamming your tongue into the deepening rose wrinkles in gratitude for her choosing to trap you beneath it.

            But no more.

            “Hey, it’s not for my benefit I’ve having you stand there, hon. I just want it absolutely positively crystal-clear what’s going to happen to the both of you if one of you tries anything silly on me here. Because there’s no need for it,” the redhead continues.

            You hear her pause, followed by something muttered to the lab coat-clad cronies in thick-rimmed glasses you spied upon being brought to this room from Carly’s containment room. You didn’t have much time to get a feel for the layout of the place beyond its railed-off technician’s station and short flight of stone steps before you were forcibly deposited under Sophie’s sole, of course, with most of your senses suddenly devoted to the exact base of her body and nothing else, but it was enough.

            Most important was the massive machine itself: a mess of wires, tubes, and casings, whirring with energy and blue luminescence, and occupying the entire backside of the expansive hall. You can’t be certain, but you have a loudly sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with you and your abnormally low current height for your age or anyone else’s.

            “P-Please… let me s-stop,” Sophie weeps. You feel her foot shuddering all around you, rocking you from side to side by seismic sympathy, and it’s hard to tell how much of it is muscular exhaustion from holding one foot less than an inch off the ground for so long, or sheer watery-eyed terror for your wellbeing. Knowing your cousin, it’s probably the latter, but you can’t discount either.

            The hefty bulk of the ball of her foot eases further down against the top of your head, momentarily drowning you in dense prints and the balmy creaminess of her skin. Another desperate gasp of that sharp flavor is sucked down your throat as your lips are rammed against the all-consuming globe of it, washing sweet grime and flaked sweat down your gullet, but you feel nothing.

            No weakness. No magnetism. No regression into a toy or even a slave.

            It’s just you.

            The moment ends more quickly than you can process it. A rustle of clothes above, a snap of fingers, and barked orders you forget to comprehend. Sophie’s skin unpeels from your overheated body, briefly clinging to your limbs and lifting you from the ground before you plop onto your back again in the square center of this platform, which is quickly walled off by automated rising plate glass.

            Once the same balding body-armored guard in all black has dragged your cousin off the blaring white stage and toward yet another metal chair in the corner, the gridded lights above you become more apparent. Despite their sizzling heat, it’s comparatively cooling to feel it on your skin after having Sophie’s nervous sole flesh crammed against your every body part for several minutes.

            “Everyone ready?” Claire calls out in a dangerously singsong tone. “Because I sure as hell am.”

            There’s some random clicking and clattering across the control panel beyond, but it’s hard to distinguish through the distorted glass wall separating you from all the normal-sized giants. All you can know for certain is that the machine behind you is blooming brighter with its omnipresent blue. You can’t dare yourself to turn around and look at it, instead trying to focus on Sophie, still sobbing off in the corner.

            “We’re at full power now,” a voice reports from near Claire. “Should I throw the switch, or-”

            “Obviously,” the woman scowls. You can see her general amorphous shape heaving forward against the panel, and suddenly the blurry visages you could sort-of make out a moment before are flooded out of existence: lost in a rush of colors blended together from over your head, spiraling around you, and combining into one beam.

            Despite the near-white cobalt like the center of a flame that radiated from the monstrous belly of the size-changing machine itself, as you clench your eyelids shut in anticipation of doom or something even worse, you can’t help but notice a flash of green in the darkness. Like the aurora borealis contained inside your skull. Strange, to say the least, but you don’t have time to think it over in the increasing expectation that at any moment your entire body will be splintered into microscopic specks and splattered across all four plates of protective glass. Warmth pervades just under your skin to every corner of your body, exponentially greater than what you felt while being gently pulverized under Sophie’s sole a moment before.

            This could be it.

            And you couldn’t be more content with it now.

            When the roar of the machine finally fades away from its ping-ponging echo between the high walls of this cavernous place, you chance a blink, just to confirm whether you’re in purgatory or not yet. The white floor would certainly seem to support that idea, until you realize that the central platform of the testing room has an edge, and what’s more, it’s far closer than where you remember it.

            Far, far closer.

            The green still hangs in your darkened sight, suspended like the memory of looking into the sun, but as your swimming vision finally settles back into a solid place, you crawl onto your haunches and, with a shuddered sigh that nearly shatters your already delicately taped-together reality, you discover everything has shrunken back to its familiar size.

            Or rather, you’ve regrown back to yours.

            The cheering and clapping that fills the room somehow feels disingenuous, since you know it’s not actually for you but their own accomplishments with your science-project of a living meat-sack, but you don’t care at all. In fact, as you clamber up to your full height of over six feet for the first time in more than six years, the celebrations of your kidnappers are drowned out by Sophie’s cries from beyond.

            “JACK!” It’s a squeal of delight unlike any you’ve ever heard, except maybe one belonging to a very similar-looking family member of yours. Given how much smaller Sophie actually is than you now, with at least a six-inch differential, it would’ve been tough to immediately identify her, but you’d know that voice anywhere.

            Incredibly, you see Claire indicate in your direction with a wave of her hand, and the burly bodyguard follows the order, dragging your cousin up by the wrist from her chair. She appears only too happy to comply, skipping forward and down the stairs faster than her gruff caretaker is allowing until she’s spilling onto the white platform, her cheeks stained with both distraught and joyful tears as she literally leaps onto where you lie, wrapping her legs around yours, her arms over your shoulders as she cradles her face against your neck.

            “Good work, everyone,” the redhead balks to her henchmen and other employees, cutting over the noise of their euphoric glee. It only takes another snap of her fingers to regain control. “There will be time enough to cheer and dance and fuck each other in happiness later on. For now, I need every diagnostic on God’s green earth taken on that test. I want triple copies of every last line of code, and I want that kid there tested for… I don’t know, mumps, or anything else that might’ve gone screwy. We’ve never pulled this off before, after all. If it sounds like a stupid, impossible idea, test him for it. And Jones, go ahead and go with them.”

 

            “Please,” Carly wept with all the dramatic luster she could summon, somehow dredging up fresh saltwater to seep despite having used up most of her lifetime supply on real tears over Jack’s loss. Seconds in Michelle’s room had easily turned to minutes and then hours once Carly had this woman in the palm of her hand, metaphorically at least. Who needed physical size and strength when you had oceanic eyes deep enough to maroon any target, plus a composer’s artistry for beautiful-sounding words? “Please, Michelle.”

            “Carly… I know you’re afraid, but-”

            “She’ll kill me if you just hide me in here. She’ll find out!”

            “Carly, I can’t just l-let you go out there, out in the world on your own. In here, I can bring you food, take care of you, but out there… I don’t know if you’ll… s-survive.”

            “How do you be sure?”

            “I had… someone else. Here. Her name… her name was June.”

            “What happened to her?”

            “We couldn’t get anywhere with her. Three years of testing, and nothing. She’d already tried to escape twice, and almost made it the second time. So Claire, she told me to… to…”

            “Kill her,” Carly finished for her, experiencing the wince beneath the padded floor of Michelle’s palm. “Just like she’s going to tell you to do to me. You know that.”

            “I didn’t do it!” Michelle blubbered. “I believe in what we’re d-doing here, I honestly do… but… she begged me to let her go, so I… did… I put her right out the front door. On her own. No bigger than you. I have no idea where she ended up, or if someone else found her. If she’d been discovered, I know Claire would’ve done to me what I was supposed to do to June, but…”

            “But she wasn’t. I can make it, too,” Carly wailed, coiling each of her limbs around Michelle’s fingers. She fragmented her breathing, letting the woman sync with the anguish vibrating out of her against her flesh. “I don’t want to die. Please. M-Michelle, I… I know you’re a g-good person. Not like the others here. Not like Claire. G-Give me a chance.”

            “There’s no way at this size that you’d make it. I couldn’t live with myself.” The woman’s fingers closed in tighter around her mewling charge’s falsely quivering body.

            “Then make me a different size. My real size,” Carly sobbed, letting loose another downpour down her cheeks with such effort it caused physical pain. “I need you.”

            “She’ll know the machine was used. She won’t let me-”

            “Then come with me,” Carly demanded lovingly, planting a kiss on the woman’s thumb pad. She broadened the circular windows into her crystal blue irises, knowing the woman was almost pulled fully inside. Now she just needed to drown her. “We can make it. Together.”

 

            You pull Sophie’s cheek away from yours for a moment in the quiet of your shared cell, brushing a halcyon lock of sweat-matted hair off her forehead. After the onslaught of medical exams you just went through, needles poked into your veins and bones, continually discovering zero side effects in your return to proper stature, it’s vitally soothing on your aching form to have this time alone, even though you know the door could fling open again at any minute and tear you apart from your cousin again.

            Sophie leans in closer, her legs wrapped over yours. She casts another gaze up toward your face and drinks in the sight of your head resting above hers, probably still not quite believing it. The young woman’s fingers rise up, threading gracefully through your hair and letting every individual strand cling in the soft creases between her digits for just a moment before releasing them again. She shuts her eyes and leans in again, depositing a warm, wet kiss on your chin.

            “Thanks for everything, Soph,” you whisper under your breath and into her ear. “I mean it.”

            “Oh, Jack,” she utters. “What’s going to happen to us?”

            “I don’t know yet,” you admit. “But if I can do anything about it, you’re not going to stay here. I’m going to get you out.”

            “Why did all of this have to go like this?” she moans, a slither of a cry left in your eardrum. “It… doesn’t even seem real. None of it.”

            “I know,” you say. “I’m so sorry you got dragged into all this.”

            “Don’t you apologize again,” she wheezes, her throat now sore after a day of nonstop tears. “I just didn’t want you to feel alone or scared anymore. And now…”

            “It’ll be all right, Soph. Somehow.”

            As if to punctuate your uncertain promise, the telltale wrenching of the metal lock rings in your ears, followed by the creak of the ancient hinges and a squat face appearing past the jamb.

            “C’mon. They got another med test to run on you,” the balding grunt evidently named Jones grumbles, stooping and snatching the both of you by an arm each. Sophie is pulled in close to his chest, probably to make a point to you. His sausage-esque fingers are, seemingly, made at least partially of iron. Even at your height and level of athleticism, it’s too risky to make a move right now. He’s definitely not going to offer many opportunities to break free, especially while he has Sophie drawn so near, his hand next to her neck.

            They may not be able to blackmail your cousin into crushing you underfoot any longer, but you have a feeling Claire has some gruesome alternatives in mind involving long metal poles or pointed tools.

            Nevertheless, your begrudging tramp down the tunnel toward the next steel-reinforced door feels among the most empowered of your stunted lifespan. You made a promise to Sophie, and you intend to keep it, even if it kills you. With every step, you feel your consciousness re-growing to befit the six-foot frame you now repossess, filling in the spaces again. It’s like moving back into an old house. Despite the imminent danger to yourself and the dearest person you have left on the earth, you can’t help but dare the universe to stop you from calling yourself a human being again.

            For the first time in a very long time, you allow yourself the luxury of belief.

 

            With a final crackling fizzle, the great machine swallowed the remainder of its blue light back into its alloy bowels as Carly, bathed in light and returned to all five-foot-eleven-inches of tanned, toned, twitching glory, laid in the center of the white stage, her fingers trembling around the hem of her newly gifted skirt, as if she briefly thought she might be flung into the stratosphere. She made no attempt to move, only letting the smile play across her mouth a little longer in the corners.

            “Wow… it…” Michelle gawked as she shoved away from the control panel she’d been running. She sprinted down to the testing floor, taking the steps two at a time. For an instant she only processed the sight of the lanky siren stretched out in snow angle formation upon the white floor. Snapping quickly out of it, though, the woman wrapped her hands around Carly’s shoulders and hoisted her up. As her face passed along the ascending Arton’s cheek, she couldn’t help but inhale a little harder, savoring the girl’s amplified scent.

            The disheveled blonde subject herself made no further sound, her arms hanging limply at her side, a portrait of uncommon weakness, inviting Michelle to shift more of her weight against Carly’s hips for support. It worked.

            “Carly, I’m sorry, but… they could come in at any second,” the willowy woman urged, eyeing the distant metal chair dragged beneath the hammer of the door handle to keep it from twisting. A temporary solution, at best. She shouldered Carly up the stairs, unable to help but feel a mounting rush inside at the sight of the girl now possessing a good eight inches in superiority over her, and set about on a three-legged race toward the door. “It’s time to go. Now.”

            “I know.

            Michelle felt Carly halt in her defiant tracks and swiveled back around, but it was too late. In the subsequent breath, the woman’s vision faded into a corkscrew of all-encompassing obscurity as she sunk into unconsciousness on the floor, the back of her head already swelling magenta from where Carly had snatched her by that midnight hair and slammed Michelle’s skull down into the countertop with an authoritative crack of her fist.

            There were already voices outside the door, accompanied by batons railing on the frame in rage, keys jangling uselessly on hooks, but Carly didn’t hear them. Nor could she truly see her fingertips working feverishly across the backlit screen Michelle had left running on the Matter Reduction Device’s console, indicating the desired percentage increase in mass and volume upon the testing platform. She hardly felt the cold of the floor on her soles, her skin hot enough now to melt away the chill, as she pounced down the steps again and dove into the path of the machine’s impending rays just as they shown out from the grid above with the blinding capacity of a newborn sun.

            None of these rapidly flashing moments was digested in Carly’s head, not out of disconnection from the world, but because they didn’t matter. All she could see ahead of her, fastened to her eternal sight even in the darkness, was Jack, tiny and helpless, naked and afraid, crying out for her from past the veil put up by the world and all its sickening inhabitants.

            But no more.

            The second sensation was just as instantaneous, but far more potent as Carly witnessed herself taking pure form.

            The one she was meant for.

            The expansive white floor beneath her back reduced into nothing, fading faster than a day-old dream. Her arms seemed to billow outward in the once-yawning metal canyon, filling the space faster than she could’ve imagined as her wide hands each pressed to opposite walls, feeling the metal shrink beneath her touch, as though she herself was crafting its new shape along her radial fingertips. It felt something akin to willing herself into the realms of Neverland and Wonderland from the bygone childhood myths she once spent hours upon hours mentally rewriting: correcting the short-sighted scope of their original creators, her body literally expanding into the dream’s story.

            Only this was no dream.

            Carly Arton had grown.

            Her legs extended to full length as the girl released a moan of seismically erotic relief she’d had pent up for months on end, letting her darkly radiant hair cascade regally over the railings of the lab. There was hardly room to contain her now.

            The sound of her musical victory yawp rattled the clandestine underground hall, but it was immediately contested in its pitch by the earth-splitting crash as Carly, a grin plastered over her pillowy lips, collided both nude feet into the bulk of the prototypical MRD with all the power of a medieval battering ram and triple the glee. Its cold silver chassis folded like crispy tin foil under Carly’s buttery heels.

            She flexed her soles, digging her ankles down into the now-flaming wreckage of Claire’s magnum opus, hardly aware of the slightest singe as she buckled the massive underside of her left and right feet again and again upon this device so much time and pain had been spent upon. The last gasp of its eerie blue glow peeked from among the crumpled, charred pile of copper and steel, but Carly quickly squinched a big toe over this last bastion of the machine’s life, crunching it with hardly a flick of her meaty digit.

            Satisfied that none could follow her now, Carly drew her truck-sized bare feet back into her body, clutching momentarily at the blue uniform Michelle had stitched together: a last gift from the overly trusting woman. She flicked aside the hall’s chairs with a bat of her slender fingers, shuffling for shoulder room as the newly titanic twenty-year-old gazed up upon the ceiling that had once seemed so distant but now looked close enough to touch.

            Of course, Carly did far more than touch it as she pressed off from the cold ground by the balls of her feet and splayed toes, launching upward with all the potential energy of a nuclear rocket concentrated into her nubile body, her curves bulging with long-dormant amazonian might. Her fist passed easily through the pathetic sheet of six-foot stainless steel, causing it to erupt upward in tattered flecks and, to her surprise, into the blazing sunlight.

            Wrapping her warm fingers over the edge of the landscape above and dragging her luminescent visage out of the MRD’s coffin and into the land of the living again, the one-hundred-and-fifty-foot goddess-in-becoming gazed out into the dusty, mountainous terrain of her captor’s hideaway. Over the sprawling, rocky earth and just past a branded green sign bolded with “Avalon Valley,” she spied the urban stubble of houses and buildings dotting the horizon just beyond.

            “Now…” Carly murmured with all the serenity she knew the people out there could no longer enjoy, now that she existed in full. She allowed the warm solar rays to kiss her cheeks like a lost sister as she stretched up toward the heavens with both hands spread wide, ready to receive her new world onto the tip of her waiting tongue, and swallowed. “…just where did my precious little bro get off to?”

 

Chapter End Notes:

All right, all right, go ahead and hate me if you must. But you didn’t really think I could wrap up this series in just one more chapter, did you?

This whole fifth story has been about Carly and Jack’s journeys apart, with the conclusion now finally bringing them back into the same place. The next, and probably final, story of the series will show what happens when our tiny immovable object (brother) meets a gigantic unstoppable force (sister), and also allow Carly to grow into a height more suited to her personality.

So stay tuned for the continuation in A Little Blackmail 6. I don’t know when it will be appearing, but certainly in much less time than it took me to begin posting this one. As always, comments are sincerely appreciated, and I hope you let me know what you thought of the ending.

Peace, kiddies.

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