Every corner is optimized for regression. No toilets. No adult clothes. Only thick nappies, open changing tables, high chairs, and strict routines.
And Elara never smiles at independence. She only praises regressors who fill their nappies fully and without resistance. Who ask, in whispers or moans, to be kept that way. Who crawl toward her with sagging bottoms, eyes watery with dependency, and whimper:
“Mommy… I made a mess again…”