After they save the city and stopped the world's biggest heist.
The bad guys continue on their next adventure.
Raising princess.
Which isn't going to easy as it looks when sHe gets older and lots of obstacles coming their way.
But there's nothing th...
The shimmering halls of the Los Angeles Mall bustled with noise—children begging for toys, parents chasing after school sales, and the ever-present hum of pop music playing overhead.
A small white-furred kitten, around 9 years old, walked hand-in-hand with her adopted mother, Diane Foxington. The kitten's pastel tutu swayed with each step, and her soft purple-striped tank top clung loosely against her delicate frame. Her messy bob cut framed her bright pink eyes, which sparkled with excitement. Two low pigtails dangled from the sides, tied with sparkly ribbons.
It was back-to-school season, and Diane had insisted they get everything Princess would need for middle school. Notebooks. Pencils. Highlighters. Stickers. A lunchbox shaped like a strawberry shortcake.
As they left the school supply store, Princess slowed to a stop. Her eyes caught something glimmering on a shelf just outside a boutique window.
Diane noticed the sudden halt. "What are you looking at, sweetie?"
Princess didn't answer at first. She stepped forward, hands pressed against the glass like it was magical.
There, propped in a special display, was a pastel pink hardcover journal. It was embossed with a golden tiara, surrounded by curling rose vines, and beside it lay a hot pink fountain pen shaped like a wand.
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Diane followed her gaze and smiled softly.
Princess whispered, "It's beautiful..."
"You want that diary?" Diane asked gently.
Princess looked up. "What's a diary?"
Diane chuckled. "It's a special book, sweetheart. Just for you. You write your thoughts, your dreams, even your secrets in it. You can draw, doodle, anything. It's your private little world."
Princess's eyes grew wide with awe.
"Really?" she said, her voice barely above a breath. "Like... a secret book just for me?"
Diane nodded. "Yup. No one else gets to read it unless you want them to. Not even me."
A huge, sparkling grin spread across Princess's little face. "Can I have it, Mama? Please?"
Diane smiled and nodded. "Let's go get it."
The moment the boutique clerk handed it over, Princess squealed with joy, hugging it to her chest as if it were made of gold.
Diane knelt to her level and gently brushed her bangs from her eyes. "This is your special space, Princess. And always remember—your thoughts are important. Even the ones you don't say out loud."
Princess nodded and said softly, "Thank you, Mama."
As they left the store, Princess skipped beside her mother, diary clutched tightly under one arm. That night, she wrote in it for the first time. The first page read in messy but heartfelt handwriting:
