They got to their room and she fumbled with the keys, her hand shaking so much that she couldn't get it into the lock correctly.
She muttered her thanks and hurried in, evidently hiding her face. "I'm just, uh... I'm just going to go into the closet for a second, okay?"
She shuddered slightly and she was shaking badly. He would be able to tell that she was about to unfurl, the panic and fear of the day catching up to her. "I gotta... I gotta... I gotta get in the closet, or something. It's okay. I gotta..."
He opened the closet before sitting on the floor, opening his arms to her with a small tilt of his head.
She looked down at him with wide eyes, her shoulders heaving with breaths before she crawled into his lap, burying her face into his chest.
They sat in the dark for a few minutes, the only sounds being Poppy's breaths as she struggled for air, the panic pushing down on her from all sides.
"They don't... they don't give a *squee!* about us, Francis. We're just tools to them. They don't care. They don't *squee!*ing care."
He kissed her hair. "We can find a way to get out of this. Don't worry. We can just live our normal lives."
"You heard Owen. We're stuck here. Francis, they don't care if our babies grow out without a dad. Without a mum. They don't care. What are we doing?"
She shuddered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you, Francis," she said, her voice cracking slightly.
