Toby's wail split the night. His little body curled up, hands flying to his face. "IT HURTS! MAMA! IT HURTS!"
"Oh, my child!" Mira moved instantly, abandoning the blueprint. She dropped to her knees beside Toby, her hands gentle as she lifted him. "What happened? Let Mama see—"
"MY NOSE!" Toby sobbed into her chest, his voice muffled. "I HIT MY NOSE!"
Mira cradled him, her massive breasts pillowing his head. She rocked him gently, one hand stroking his hair. "Shh, shh... it's okay, baby. Mama's got you..."
Viktor, meanwhile, had caught the clothes mid-air. He looked down at them—Bella's short black skirt, her cropped top, her undergarments—then at Bella herself.
He sighed.
"Hey, little champ," Viktor called toward Toby, his voice softening. "You did good. Great throw."
Toby peeked out from Mira's cleavage, his eyes red and teary. "R-Really, Papa?"
"Really. Now let your Mama fix you up, okay?"
