Children's room

Here's the continuation in English:

The Nursery Room

2014, New York. Two weeks later. 10:00 AM.

Elizabeth Wright stood in front of the large window of "Dear Baby" store on 34th Street, staring at the display. A white crib with rounded rails, a hanging mobile with fabric bunnies, and a small swing with a sign that read: "For Little Angels."

She squeezed her wallet in her hand. Inside was the cash from Mark and two new clients she'd seen since. Enough to start, but not much more.

"Ma'am, can I help you?"

A middle-aged saleswoman in a pink apron approached her.

"Yes… I need a crib. But the size needs to be… a bit larger than usual."

The saleswoman raised her eyebrows.

"How much larger?"

Elizabeth gave her professional smile. The same one she used in her therapy office.

"For a… special child. With unique needs."

The saleswoman asked no more questions. She simply led her to the special orders section.

Three days later, a small truck stopped in front of the 32nd Street building.

Elizabeth went downstairs and opened the front door. Two workers carefully unloaded large boxes from the truck. In one box: a white crib measuring 200×120 cm. In another: a changing table with multiple drawers. In a third: a large wooden rocking chair made of walnut.

Elizabeth inspected everything carefully. She touched each piece herself to make sure there were no sharp edges. No scratches on any surface.

The workers carried the boxes up to apartment 4B and left. Elizabeth closed the door and looked at the empty living room.

Four plain walls, a small window with cream curtains, hardwood flooring with a few scuffs. She had already cleared the room. Moved the couches into her own bedroom. Now it was just empty space, waiting to become something else.

2:00 PM.

Elizabeth rolled up the sleeves of her house dress and opened the first box.

The smell of fresh wood and white paint hit her nostrils. She pulled out the crib pieces one by one: two side panels with rounded rails, two end panels, and a thick mattress wrapped in plastic.

She set the instruction manual aside. Didn't need it. With her hands, she assembled the pieces like a giant puzzle. Tightened each screw with a wrench. Checked every bolt twice to make sure nothing was loose.

When the crib was complete, she stepped back and looked at it.

It was big. Bigger than the photo in the catalog. Enough space for a grown man to curl up in a fetal position. The white rails surrounded it like a cage made of safety.

Elizabeth ran her hand along the rails. Smooth wood, no splinters.

"This will be a safe place." she whispered to herself.

4:00 PM. The Changing Table.

She positioned the changing table against the wall, directly across from the crib. Its top surface was wide and soft, covered in a foam layer wrapped in waterproof fabric. Two rows of shelves below, for diapers, creams, and powders.

Elizabeth opened and closed the drawers. Smooth and silent. No squeaks.

From a separate box, she unpacked her first custom diaper order. Packs of ten, adult size, with moon and star patterns. Some were soft pink, some sky blue, some white with colorful dots.

She arranged them carefully on the shelves. Like a small store. Front row: daytime diapers. Second row: nighttime diapers. Third row: wet wipes and special creams.

At the end of the shelf, she placed a small wooden box. Inside, various pacifiers. Adult size. Bear, bunny, and duck designs.

6:00 PM. Lights and Decorations.

Elizabeth opened her shopping bag. Inside: a bunny-shaped nightlight in soft pink, a hanging mobile with shiny stars that moved with air currents, and a round, plush rug that she spread in the center of the room.

She laid the rug over the hardwood floor. The texture was so soft that if someone fell, they wouldn't get hurt.

She placed the nightlight on the small table next to the crib and turned it on. A soft pink glow filled the room. Not harsh or blinding. Just the right light to bring calm.

She carefully hung the star mobile from the ceiling. When she opened the window, the airflow made them spin slowly. The stars cast small, shifting shadows across the walls.

8:00 PM. The Last Box.

In the final box was a small wooden plaque. Elizabeth placed it on the changing table and opened the lid.

Inside was a small wooden sign she had written herself with pink marker:

"Rabbit Boy Nursery – little bunnies only"

In the corner of the sign, she had drawn a tiny bunny. With long ears and a cotton-ball tail.

She smiled. She had written this sign the very night Mark first came. Now it was set in a small wooden frame.

She carried the sign to the door and hung it at eye level for a big child.

9:00 PM. The Room Was Complete.

Elizabeth turned off the main light and left only the pink nightlight on. The room bathed in a warm, sleepy glow.

The white crib sat in the center, with soft cotton sheets and a heavy knitted blanket she had made herself. On the crib, a large stuffed bunny sat, its long ears draped over its shoulders.

The changing table stood against the wall, with neatly arranged diapers and colorful pacifiers. A lidded diaper pail, with odor neutralizer, sat in the corner.

The soft rug underfoot, the pink nightlight, the star mobile spinning slowly, and the faint scent of baby powder that Elizabeth had carefully sprayed around the room.

Everything was perfect.

Elizabeth sat in the wooden rocking chair and looked at the room. She ran her hand along the armrest. Cool, smooth wood. She began to rock gently.

A soft creak came from beneath the chair. Like a silent lullaby.

"This will be a safe place." she said again. This time, louder.