For the Can You Make It To the End Challenge (an important day in Victoire's life) and the Most in a Month Competition.

"I don't like it!" Victoire says. "It smells bad, and it keeps crying!"

"She," her father corrects with a sigh.

Victoire scowls. "She."

The baby really is gross. She doesn't deserve such a pretty name. Dominique should be something cute and fluffy, not that screaming nightmare that keeps squirming in her mother's arms.

"Come here, my love," her mother calls. "Sit with me."

Victoire doesn't want to. Her mother is holding that weird baby thing. Even if Dominique has stopped crying for now, Victoire knows that she'll start up again.

Still, her mother asks, and Victoire will always be a good girl, her parents' special little princess. The baby can't do that.

She climbs up on the bed, her nose wrinkling. "Why is it- she so pink?" she asks.

"You were pink once," her mother tells her. "And just as small, too."

"But I didn't scream like it- she does."

Her father laughs. "You screamed much louder. We had to hand out earmuffs whenever people visited you," he says. "Uncle George said you were a mandrake."

"What's a mandrake?"

"A plant, ma belle," her mother answers.

"A great screaming one," her father adds, and Victoire doesn't know if he's joking or not.

"Here. Hold her."

"I don't want to. She's pink, and she squirms, and she cries, and-"

Her mother places the baby in Victoire's arms regardless, positioning her arms so that Victoire doesn't drop her. Everything seems to change somehow. Victoire has looked at the little baby as some sort of curse, something terrible and gross. But holding her is different somehow.

"Bonjour, Dominique," she says with a smile. "That means hello! You'll understand French, too, ma coccinelles."

"Your ladybug?" her father laughs. "Just a minute ago, you insisted you were still an only child."

Victoire huffs. "Hush, Daddy! I'm a big sister! I'm a grownup now!"

Dominique squirms, her eyes opening. Victoire squeals. Her eyes are blue, too!

"Ma coccinelles," Victoire says again, mesmerized by the tiny thing in her arms.

Dominique opens her small, toothless mouth, crying. Victoire looks between her parents, frantic. "What did I do? Did I hurt her?"

"She needs to eat," her mother says gently, taking Dominique away and pressing the baby's mouth to her chest.

"Does she eat your skin?"

Her mother blushes. "No. There's milk."

"You spilled milk?"

"Bill? Perhaps you can give her an anatomy lesson while I get Dominique settled again."

Her father takes Victoire by the hand. "Come on, princess. I think it's time that we have lunch, too."

Victoire hesitates. She doesn't want to leave Dominique. She's just now decided that she wants to keep her sister. It isn't fair!

"Be careful with her! She's little!" Victoire says. "And she's gonna need a nap, too! Don't forget the nap."

Her mother chuckles. "Ah, ma belle, what would I do without your wisdom?"