When the Story Continues (Sequel to When the Script Changes)

Chapter 5: The Sleep-Deprived Survival Guide

By the time it was over, Mon was happily cooing—completely unbothered by the chaos she'd created.

Becky exhaled dramatically, hands on her hips. "She's lucky she's cute."

Freen smirked. "She knows she's cute. That's why she gets away with this."

Mon gurgled happily, like she agreed.

Becky groaned.

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3:15 AM – The Baby Conspiracy

Freen and Becky were back in bed.

The house was quiet.

Again.

Maybe—just maybe—they could actually get some sleep now.

Freen closed her eyes. Bliss.

And then—

A tiny whimper.

Becky snapped upright. "No."

Freen cracked one eye open. "Babe—"

"NO." Becky shook her head violently. "She's messing with us. I know it."

Freen sighed. "She's a baby, Becky. She doesn't have a master plan."

Becky turned to her, wild-eyed. "Oh, but she does."

Freen bit her lip. "Babe—"

"She waits," Becky whispered, voice dead serious. "She waits until we just start falling asleep—then she strikes."

Freen tried—really tried—not to laugh.

But Becky looked so serious.

"Are you saying our two-month-old daughter is plotting against us?"

Becky nodded. "One hundred percent."

Another tiny whimper.

Becky pointed dramatically. "SEE?"

Freen lost it.

She buried her face in the pillow, laughing so hard she almost couldn't breathe.

Becky shoved her. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY, FREEN."

Freen gasped between laughs. "Babe, I love you, but you sound like a conspiracy theorist."

Becky huffed, crossing her arms. "You'll see. She's winning this war."

Freen rolled over, pressing a soft kiss to Becky's cheek. "We'll survive. Together."

Becky sighed. "I guess."

Another whimper.

Freen and Becky both froze.

They stared at the baby monitor, silent.

Waiting.

No cry.

Becky narrowed her eyes. "She's testing us."

Freen couldn't breathe.

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6:45 AM – The Dogs Strike Back

Somehow, some way, they finally fell asleep.

Until—

BARK.

Then another bark.

Then—pure chaos.

Freen shot up. "What the hell?"

BonBon was barking at the door.

Fluffy was barking at BonBon.

Boba was barking at literally nothing.

And Mon?

Mon was awake.

Freen let out a silent scream.

Becky groaned, dragging a pillow over her face. "Why do they hate us?"

Freen dragged herself out of bed, throwing the door open.

"Guys. It's too early for this."

BonBon immediately tackled her.

Fluffy wagged his tail aggressively.

Boba—still in Becky's baby carrier from earlier—somehow looked guilty.

Freen narrowed her eyes. "What did you guys do?"

Becky rolled over, groggy. "They probably heard a squirrel."

Freen sighed. "This is our life now."

Becky groaned. "No sleep. Only chaos."

Mon let out a tiny coo.

Freen sighed dramatically, scooping her up. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Mon blinked innocently.

Becky pointed at her. "See? She's plotting."

Freen rolled her eyes. "Okay, detective. Let's go make coffee before I lose my mind."

Becky dragged herself out of bed. "Make mine extra strong."

Freen smirked. "Extra strong with 100% sweet, extra love?"

Becky grinned. "Obviously."

And as they stumbled to the kitchen, surrounded by dogs, a baby, and complete chaos, one thing was clear—

This was the hardest, most exhausting, most beautiful thing they had ever done.

And they wouldn't trade it for the world.