Nobody else I loved came to visit during my short hospital stay, and I was cleared for release the day after I woke up. Mom stayed by my side the entire time, helping me learn to walk on my own and use the bathroom in my own body for the first time. She obviously barely slept, it looked like she was keeping herself conscious through sheer force of will. More than once I worried for how hard she was pushing herself, but I also knew that I desperately needed company.

She left the room for over fifteen minutes at one point, and in that time it felt like I was isolated and back in the stasis room all over again. I was freezing despite the blankets over me, I couldn’t see or hear anyone nearby, and I felt incapable of moving. I didn’t come close to stabilizing until a nurse arrived to calm me down. My mom followed close behind, and ardently refused to leave my side from that point on.

The doctor taking care of me told my mom and I that I should talk to a mental health specialist sooner than later, and I couldn’t help but agree. An officer from the magi police at one point tried speaking to me, but Mom nearly bit their head off. I didn’t quite understand why the cops were around at all, and Mom wasn’t answering any of my questions, but I figured it had to do with my coma. Maybe they had arrested Dr. Rivan? A girl could hope. 

Speaking of, being called a girl and being given clothes to fit my girl self felt really good. I was nearly jumping for joy in response to the constant use of feminine pronouns. If my legs worked properly I might have actually been jumping. A small part of me knew this could only be temporary, but I was willing to set her aside to relish this week of pure bliss. 

Mom asked if I had a new name for myself, but I could only ever offer a noncommittal handwave. I may not have liked the name, but Max was a good stopgap for the week I had. It was androgynous enough for me to not feel discomfort, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up by using the name that came to mind.

The short walk to the teleport station was an incredible challenge. Just getting out of the hospital with the help of my mom had sapped most of my energy, and I could barely move once we managed to get outside. I knew the station was next to the hospital, it couldn’t have been much more than 50 meters away, but the marathon I felt like I’d already run made that distance seem impossibly far.

Through enormous effort we were able to get to the teleporter, a young man dressed for what looked more like a formal dance than a day of casting teleportation spells. He didn’t even look old enough to be working here, but I was far too exhausted to worry much about his perceived age. He gave us two slips of paper to sign, and ushered us to a chalked in circle. 

“Please remember to stand or sit as still as possible for the duration of this casting. Mrs. Mayleaf, please open yourself up to letting me view surface thoughts and imagine where you want to go with your daughter. You’ll be brought exactly where you want to go, assuming you’re both cool with being brought to that location. Please keep hands, feet, tails,wings, backpacks, purses, satchels, or anything else you need brought with you fully in the circle. Please do not imagine being teleported in the middle of the street, cars may be rare but they can still be a danger. In the event that you are in a perilous situation within 10 seconds of being teleported you will be automatically returned safely here.” Our caster’s voice was entirely monotone as he went over the same things they always went over, plus some added stuff for not teleporting to another teleportation station. I was more than used to this spiel, having been teleported with one of my mothers or sisters since I was five. New to me, though, was the wonderfully euphoric sensation that came from being called a daughter instead of a son.

Once he finished his hands began making a variety of complicated shapes in my mom’s direction. I heard some underlying humming come from him for a moment, too, before he stopped moving completely. Once he was done light filled my vision until saw nothing but bright white. 

*****

I opened my eyes to find five slightly surprised and familiar faces standing in our living room. I would have run to hug each and every one of them had I any sort of strength left in me. Instead, my mom ushered me to her recliner while everyone else seemed to take a moment to recover. Once they did and anxiety set in I was sure they all looked disappointed or upset, I knew I saw barely concealed rage in Veronica’s eyes. 

Andrew looked me over multiple times before his eyes widened and he nearly shouted, “Wait! Max?” I heard shame and fury in his voice, and I could see his face scrunch up in what must have been hate. Oh Goddess this was a mistake. I should never have chosen to be a girl, I should have just kept on being the boy I was supposed to—

My thoughts were silenced as I felt the warm, soft arms of my brother wrap around me. I heard him sniffle right next to my ear before he spoke. Was he crying? “I’m so glad you’re okay. I didn’t think you were going to wake up this time. Please don’t scare me like that again, Max. Please.” 

I was barely able to comprehend anything in that moment. He… he was okay with me? As he let go I realized I had terribly misjudged the expressions I saw on the faces of my family. Veronica’s rage was directed somewhere else, as she stared at me I saw only love in her eyes. Lana’s confusion shifted into a proud grin after a moment, and Rissa seemed only annoyed as she gave her twin a handful of bills. Andrew looked overjoyed. Mum, standing in the back of the room, did little more than nod her head, pleased.

One by one they approached me to offer physical affection, usually hugs, and I couldn’t stop my unbridled joy from being let out. They loved me, no matter what. They didn’t even care that I didn’t realize I should have been a girl until I was thirteen. I should have felt shame for not trusting my family for even a second, but the sheer joy welling up inside me didn’t give any other emotions a chance to take over.

Once warm embraces and lovely reunions had been completed the family began updating me on what I’d missed in a month. Veronica, who had been off getting her doctorate in the study and applications of magic in astronomy, came home a week into my coma. Rissa and Lana were each given time off from their apprenticeships until I had either recovered or… didn’t. Andrew was given time off from a few weeks of school, and spent much of that time collecting homework from my friends and teachers. Mum and Mom were both given a month of paid leave to either assist in my recovery or mourn. 

Apparently it was recommended I be kept in stasis after the fourth week of my coma, three days before I ended up actually waking up. Everyone in the family was convinced I would eventually awaken, but every healer and doctor who checked on me was positive that the accident had locked me inside of my core permanently. Speaking of the accident, Dr. Rivan had his credentials revoked and was arrested for multiple counts of child endangerment. He was apparently awaiting trial, and it was likely that he’d be banned from casting magic for the rest of his life at best. 

I wanted to be pleased at Rivan facing justice for what he did, but in reality I just felt pity for his other victims. Multiple counts of child endangerment meant I was only one of several kids his pride could have killed. How many others were permanently harmed by his actions? One was already too many.

Eventually I was allowed to be escorted up to my room by Veronica, once Mom was sure I could walk without falling down our stairs. I was halfway up the stairs before realizing what a massive mistake I made, but I had to do it. Each step forward was like fire burning me alive, and Veronica absolutely could tell I was barely keeping it together, but I forced myself to manage. 

The moment I arrived on my bed I let out a scream of pain into my pillow. Veronica, catching the mood, quietly shut the door so nobody else heard me. I didn’t deserve a sister like her.

She waited patiently for my agonized screams to end. At some point I broke down into sobs as I realized how much I loved the life I could only live for six more days. That dread I ignored returned in full force once physical pain replaced all of my joy and euphoria. I couldn’t stay a girl, I had to stop pretending and go back to being a boy. Why was Veronica even supporting me? I might as well be mocking her by daring to pretend to be anything like her.

I needed to go back sooner than later, the longer I played pretend the harder it would be to go back to what I was. If I was responsible I would just ask to go back immediately, just march down to the living room and tell my mothers that there was a huge mistake and that I was supposed to be a boy. It would be like removing a band-aid. I would heal and things would eventually go back to normal.

But I couldn’t move. I wanted this, I wanted to be a girl and a daughter and a sister. Maybe it was me just lying to myself, but the lie felt so good. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so happy that I cried, before becoming a girl. I would force myself to go back in a week, but until that point I wanted to relish in this happiness.

“I have a feeling this crying isn’t just from the physical pain.” Veronica broke the silence between us with a concerned smile I could hear in her voice. “If you wanna talk about it, I’m game. I’ve been where you are, after all. Though I was a bit shorter.” She gave a small chuckle at her own joke.

I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to be a girl, even though I couldn’t be one. I wanted my week to last forever. How could I even approach her with that? ‘Oh, I secretly envy you and wish I could be like you even though I can’t really be trans or a girl since I didn’t know like you did.’

Just imagining what to say gave me the strength to say something, and I tried offering an honest and condensed response. “I… I can’t pretend to be this for more than… More than a week, but the idea of going back just…” 

“Pretend?” Veronica interrupted before I could talk myself into a fresh batch of crying. Why was that what she asked about? She knew I was pretending.

“Uh, yeah? I didn’t… Y’know, know like you did. I’m just playing pretend for a week because it makes me feel good.” 

“You…” The expression on Veronica’s face was one of wonder and frustration. Was she that upset by my choice? Was she going to ask me to go back sooner? “Did Maggy seriously not walk you through this? Ugh, that woman.”

Fear of the future was quickly replaced by confusion at her question. Who was Maggy, and why would she have talked to me? Was it one of the nurses or doctors? Maybe the police officer? 

Whoever it was, it didn’t seem like I was going to get my answer tonight. Veronica suddenly got off my bed and turned to me with a sly smile on her face. “Alright then, new sister of mine. I’m not some transmutation expert but I can fix some of your old clothes so you can last a week. As payment, though, you’ve got to pick a name you like for the week. No ifs, ands, or buts. Unless you like Max. Then we can keep it. Oh! Also, I have to be there in a week when the reversal spell is cast.”

Her offer threw me for a loop. Not only was she okay with it, she was going to help me? And all she asked for was me to pick a better fitting name for the week? I jumped (not physically, Goddess that would be painful) at her offer. The next words that left my mouth were filled with nervousness and hesitation, but they left my mouth all the same.

“My name is Samantha.”