As she's standing at side of the road, she catches just-barely-a-glimpse of a woman sitting in the backseat of a carjacked OTTO! who is doing her level best to breastfeed her baby.  Parry's newfound 20/10 espervision is enough to determine that they are extremely not having a good time right now.  The baby looks like they're trying to cry while being out of tears.

The mother just looks exhausted.

Not her problem.

Not her problem.  Not her problem not her kid not her responsibility just because she made eye contact, lady probably didn't even see her, she has a kid brother at home, she can't -

Sometimes Parry hates being Parry.

She drops her groceries on the ground and takes off.

........holy shit.  She can go fast.

She can indeed go fast.  If Parry's attempting to keep pace with this OTTO! and also her power has a speedometer, it'll reveal that she's casually capable of zooming off at 70-90mph.

If she doesn't have a speedometer and is attempting to keep pace with this OTTO! then she'll merely have the experience of going Extremely Fucking Fast.

Her power does not have a speedometer.

Holy shit.  This is incredible.  Okay.

Can she increase her speed to catch up - only in fits and starts? okay.  She jerks into her next gear and starts gaining.  Does the car know she's chasing it, is it gonna try to get away from her, or can she just glide right up to the rear door and wave hello?

Well, it's not trying to avoid her per se.  It's jerking over the road, though, avoiding potholes and rubble and cracks - it's drifting around a corner, and it's going right around a corner, the mirror missed the streetlamp by about a quarter-inch and it takes off like a rocket.  It goes from about 30mph drifting to well over ninety in four seconds.

(The baby wails as the mother tries to keep her precious cargo from going flying across the compartment of the OTTO! again.  She's got a system down by now.)

She doesn't need to drift, she can steer like a hummingbird, and her reflexes are good - but she hasn't practiced.  She almost overshoots the turn, she spins over herself through the air as she darts to the left to stay on the car's tail.  But even Tokyo Drifting, it had to slow down, and she didn't.  She's catching up.

- shit.  Her plan had been to fly parallel with the car and just pick up the kid and the mom and fly them away, but she doesn't know if she can speed up and slow down in a way that'd be safe for anyone she's carrying.  She might need another idea, and she doesn't have one.

Well, the mother's formerly exhausted and borderline-broken expression has turned to hope.  She sees an esper!  Espers save people, and her kid really needs saving.

(She also needs saving, but - that's not much of a concern right now.)

She's going to cooperate with the flying(!) esper.  Li'l Joan is going to get very quickly and very carefully strapped into her carseat again.  She's got a set of emergency straps she can use to hold Joan in, it's probably not great but neither is anything else in this fucking situation and if she does nothing, Joan is going to die.

She slaps the emergency overrides and kicks the door open.

... the door slams back closed, because of the wind.  Okay.  How do you break an OTTO! door off while in a moving vehicle?  She's not sure, but maybe the flying(!) esper(!) will have something?

Okay.

...do they need to break the door off or just hold it open against the wind - is this a job for esper strength - 

- she darts toward the car and clonks into the side a little and tries to make it look intentional and pulls the door open with one hand and doesn't let go, and snakes her other hand through the gap to press it against the inside of the door, and notches up her speed a little so its her power as well as her muscles applying force to the door to open it and keep it open against the wind - 

Her strength is not sufficient to the task.  But her power can do it, easy as walking.

The exhausted-looking woman in the back is getting ready to unhook the carseat.  "Thank you so much, this is Joan, I've got her if-lost-call card tucked into the back of carseat.  It's in the back, black pocket.  My name's Georgia, Georgia Flores, her father's name is Carlos.  Please take care of her for me, she's my only baby girl..."

How's she gonna - 

- she curls up in midair and sort of rolls over herself to get into a position where it's her feet, not her hands, holding open the door.  "I got her but I need your phone - "

Parry gets a look of staggering disbelief, then resignation.  She tucks it into the baby carrier.  "Password's 356737, it spells out 'Flores', like our last name." 

Aaaaaa my baby, my poor baby...god I hope Carlos finds her...

Joan is unsurprisingly crying about this entire misadventure.

God this is stupid, this is so stupid, this is so fucking stupid even by her standards, she should've stayed out of it.  Okay, carseat held against her chest with her back against the wind.  "I'm coming back for you," she yells.  "Away from the door."  And when Georgia complies, she drifts aside and allows the door to slam shut.

She unlocks the phone and snaps a picture of the car, from just outside, and of herself holding the carseat, and texts them to the DRT emergency hotline with the message EAST ON MARKET ST HEADING FOR TOYNE DRT PICKUP NOW

"Hey, Charles, who the fuck is this esper?  You recognize 'em?"

"Hmmm."  Charles has won eight of the last nineteen Departmental Esper Recognition contests.  It's a great way to boost morale and the prizes are pretty okay.  "Never heard of them.  She new or something?"

"Guess so.  Doesn't she have an agent, this is supposed to be for the public."

Pickup en route, ETA 7 minutes.

Seven minutes.  Does she have seven minutes of road left?  She sure hopes so.  If she hummingbirds to a stop will this baby die of whiplash?  If she decelerates in a series of tiny jerks can she buy some time without hurting the kid?  Is there any esper on the planet stupider than she is?  She cranes her neck to look behind her and make sure she's not going to fly straight into anything at fuck hundred and seventy miles per hour.

Hey there's a PEDESTRIAN XING sign right there -

Fuck - 

- she darts to the left, just barely jamming her reflex to stop dead in midair - 

- no why'd she go left, she should - 

- she sets herseft drifting up, away from the road, still racing over it at fuck hundred and seventy miles per hour but getting clear of any cars and any street signs, without accelerating fast enough to hurt the kid -

- she's getting the hang of this - but if Georgia can see her she probably deservedly wants Parry's ass kicked - 

Georgia is deliberately not looking.  Instead, she's got her seatbelt on once more and she's curled up in a miserable lump without even the ability to doomscroll anymore.

Joan, on the other hand, is giving off a godawful dopplered wailing.  Infant throats can get hoarse eventually, but this one isn't quite there yet.

If Parry's looking at the phone, it'll reveal that she has another six minutes to go before the DRT pickup will be there.  How does she plan on spending the next six minutes of her life?

She's high enough that she's not gonna run into anything, right?  Maybe she'll just fly along and reflect on what an incredibly stupid series of decisions she made to wind up here.  Maybe she'll try that gradual tiny decelerations thing.  She slows down minutely, once, again, small enough changes that hopefully baby Joan won't notice them.

Baby Joan doesn't really change much of her behavior, Parry's able to decelerate down to about 40 MPH over the course of the next six minutes.  And hey!  That's a marked DRT pickup truck, right there.  It's not quite at the marked intersection yet, but it's not all that far off, either.