Chapter 19: Some of you believe as I believe

2024 February 15, Thursday

Nerys stirred slowly. She had slept perfectly, nestled in Sophia’s arms after last night’s passion. Zoe had included a bottle of wine with their meal, but they were relatively clear-headed when they crossed the threshold and saw the nonsense the sponsors had got up to in Sophia’s room. After they came down off the giggle fit that induced, they found each other again and again, until they were too exhausted to continue, and drifted off in each other’s arms.

She smiled faintly in the early morning light. Bring on the orchi, she thought. If it means I get to have Sophia in my life? And nights like last night? Yeah, bring it. She felt Sophia stirring behind her, and she decided to roll over and face her with a smile. “Good morning,” Nerys said quietly.

“Good morning.” Sophia smiled and leaned forward a bit to kiss Nerys briefly. “You sleep okay?”

Nerys nodded, and leaned in and gave Sophia a kiss back. “The best sleep — almost want to ask if we can just stay up here.”

Sophia giggled. “I doubt they would let us,” she said, smiling at Nerys. “But we could ask if you really wanted to.”

“No, uh, that’s okay,” Nerys said, shaking her head slightly. “They’ve got this whole programme for us, right? Another eight months of fun-filled feminizing torture basement?”

“Yeah, and besides,” Sophia said slowly. “I guess I should try to help the others come to terms with it, right?”

“You should?” Nerys asked, frowning. “I mean… okay, maybe I was an egg, but Grant? Randal?”

“I mean, yeah, but what’s the alternative?” Sophia said. “They risk washing out? Disappear into a worse hole forever? If I can help them get through it, I feel I’m kind of obligated to.”

Nerys looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess you have a point…” she said quietly. She didn’t like the idea, but there were no good options here. Maybe the others could see the light, and maybe they could help them come to turns with it.

She leaned forward and kissed Sophia again, right as there was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” Nerys called in a sing-song, but slightly annoyed voice.

“Oh! It’s Zoe!” she said loudly from the other side of the door. “We brought you some breakfast.”

“Who’s we Zoe?” Sophia asked in return, grinning. “We aren’t exactly, uh, presentable.” Nerys had to muffle a giggle at that.

“Oh, uh, just Riley and me, but it’s fine!” Zoe said quickly. “We wouldn’t barge in on you even if we could — I’ll just set it outside on its tray. I hope you both had a nice night.”

“Thank you! And we did,” Nerys called through the door and started rotating upright, only to realize that she was quite naked under the sheets. “Uh, Soph, do you have any robes? Also, do you have any idea where my underwear wound up last night?”

“Oh, uh… no to the latter, yes to the former,” Sophia said, rotating a bit and Nerys realized she was also very naked. “I have some things you could borrow though in place of the stuff you had on last night, though.”

“Oh, that’s probably for the best anyway — that stuff is too fancy for the basement,” Nerys said, giggling. “Also, it’s maybe a bit messy after last night.”

Sophia laughed and got out of bed, and went over to her wardrobe, her back turned towards Nerys. She didn’t bother to cover up at all, and Nerys was sure she would have a nosebleed straight out of an anime at any moment. Sophia quickly pulled on some plain basic knickers and a bra, then turned and tossed similar to Nerys, who laughed and relented and put them on. She got up off the bed and walked over to Sophia as she rummaged in more drawers, kissing her between her shoulder blades, which earned Nerys a giggle from Sophia.

“Here, you silly goose, have a pair of shorts and a shirt,” Sophia said, turning to face Nerys. Sophia took a set out for herself put them on, then pulled out a pair of robes and offered one to Nerys, who put it on.

Sophia padded lightly over to the door, carefully opened it, and brought the tray of food in. “Oh, that smells good,” Nerys said as they sat on the bed with the tray of eggs and toast and sausage.

“Right? Two meals in a row from Zoe — we’re going to get spoiled.”

Shortly after they started to eat, there was another knock at the door. Nerys recognized Stephanie’s knock, and Sophia immediately brightened. “Good morning, Steph!” she called brightly through the door. “The door’s unlocked if you want to come in.”

“Morning Sophia, Nerys,” Stephanie called. “That’s okay, we just wanted to inform you that Indira’s planning a feminism lesson this morning.”

“Do we have to attend?” Nerys asked with a smirk. “Can’t we just stay up here, away from those awful boys?”

Nerys was surprised at the length of the pause. “Yes, Nerys, you have to,” Mary’s voice called through the door. “You’re still a programme participant, and are still expected to participate in the group activities.”

“Oh, uh, hi Mary,” Nerys called with a sheepish look on her face. “We’re eating breakfast, is that quick enough?”

“That’s fine,” Mary called. “But if you aren’t in the ground floor kitchen in twenty, we won’t be bothering to knock.”

“Right! Got it,” Nerys called and turned to Sophia with a grimace on her face.

Sophia looked very surprised and reached out and placed a hand on Nerys’s hand. “Oh, shit,” Sophia whispered. “That was a stronger response than I would’ve expected. I’m sorry, Rainbow.”

“Guess we had better finish eating,” Nerys said quietly, and picked her fork back up. A frown was on her face as she ate and thought about the power the sponsors held over her — that she feared they always would. I’ve already made so much progress. Surely, it’s enough? she thought.

It wasn’t long before they finished eating and Sophia stood and offered her hand to Nerys, who took it smiling. “I’m sorry Nerys, I didn’t… I wouldn’t have…”

“Hey, it’s not you, it’s them,” Nerys said, squeezing her hand. “And maybe they have a point.” Nerys shrugged as she stood. “I still think about them a fair bit, you know, the things I made. Sometimes I start making a caption in my head for something I saw, and they’re still every bit as bad as they used to be.”

Sophia beamed at her, and her heart melted. “I know you’re making progress, though, and Mary should be more understanding of that.”

Sophia picked up the tray of plates and glasses, and they walked downstairs together to the ground floor kitchen, with Nerys looping her arm through Sophia’s. Mary and Stephanie were the only two in the kitchen when they arrived, both sitting at the table with mugs of coffee in front of them. “Good morning, you two!” Stephanie said, smiling brightly as they entered.

“Morning,” Sophia said evenly and proceeded to deal with the dishes on the tray quickly.

“Morning,” Nerys said quietly, not meeting Mary’s eyes. She quickly turned and helped Sophia with the dishes.

“Oh geez, is this because I said you had to be down here in twenty minutes?” Mary said in exasperation.

Sophia turned to her as she dried a dish off. “Yes,” she said simply. Bless her.

“I, look, there are expectations on me as well as on you,” Mary said, frowning, “as I’m sure you are aware. And I know that you know you still have a ways to go.”

Nerys sighed and turned around with Sophia. “I know, okay? But like, it had been a good night and then…” her voice trailed off. “It’s just inconsistent.”

“That’s fair,” Mary said. “I will endeavour to do better, so long as you understand the expectations. If I push too hard in the wrong way, you let me know. Just like you did just now, okay? And then we’ll figure out how to move forward from there — even if that means you need a break.”

“Sure. Thanks, Mary,” Nerys said, turning back around and meeting her eyes finally and smiling. “Guess we should be heading downstairs then?”

“Yup!” Stephanie said brightly. They squared away the last few dishes, then crossed the dining hall, pushed through the basement doors and descended.

***

Randal woke to the knocking of Maria — who, as usual, didn’t wait for him to respond before unlocking his door. “Good morning, Randal!” she said brightly as she crossed the threshold, carrying a bag in one hand and her taser in the other.

He rolled away from the door and put his pillow over his head. “Go away, I’m sick,” he said, adding a theatrical cough.

“Oh, you’re sick, are you?” Maria said, her voice filled with mirth. “I should call our nurse in to have her give you a checkup. Probably wouldn’t be the most pleasant thing ever for you. Especially if you’re lying — so many more things to have to poke and prod and verify aren’t wrong with you.”

“Ugh, no, just leave me alone,” Randal said, wishing she would just go away, but knowing she wouldn’t. He knew the stakes for this particular interaction — another strike — so he rolled back over to face her with a glare.

“You promised yesterday,” she said, meeting his glare with her own steady gaze. “If you welch on the bet, you will wind up wearing the skirt anyway, albeit in your cell, after having been tased and shackled.”

“Go away,” he said angrily, wishing he could get away with throwing a pillow at her. “It was a stupid bet under coercion.”

“Randal,” she said sharply. “Do you need me to pull up the footage where I gave you an out and you decided to proceed anyway? If you don’t follow through, I will count it as a strike. And you already saw what we did when you got your third. You don’t want to know what happens beyond that.”

Shit. Fuck. No, he did not want to know that. “So what short tarty skirt did you bring to laugh at me in?” he said, sighing and rotating upright on the bed, sure as always with her around to move slowly lest she decide to taze him as a precaution.

Maria tilted her head to one side. “We do use humiliation as a tool sometimes, yes, but no, nothing like that today,” Maria said calmly, and set the bag on the floor next to him. “Just a regular skirt of a relatively modest length.”

He slowly reached for it. What was he scared of? It was just some damn cloth, and cloth couldn’t hurt him. Oh, right. The photos. There were cameras everywhere. He glanced at his briefly. “Worried about the cameras, Randal?” she asked. Maria had noticed, of course she had, curse her observational skills, he thought. “That should be a familiar fear to you, although you’ve usuallybeen on the other side and stoking it in others — you needn’t worry, we wouldn’t do that.”

He grinned, there it was, the worry was for naught. “Yeah, it would expose you lot too, wouldn’t it? It’s a hollow threat,” he said, kicking at the bag.

“The cameras? A hollow threat, yes, and one I didn’t actually make, you will note,” Maria said calmly. “Another strike or even washing out? Not hollow. And the strike is rapidly approaching. Put on the skirt, Randal.”

Randal growled in frustration and reached for the bag he had kicked at, it hadn’t scooted any really and was surprisingly heavy. He pulled out the fabric, and realized quickly it was the Stevenson tartan: a frankly haphazard mix of green, blue, red, black, and yellow. A kilt? No. Not a kilt he realized as he pulled it out of the bag. He had been forced to wear a kilt to a wedding once when he was a little kid and his uncle had very clearly told him the differences. This was very much a skirt, continuous circle, thinner cloth, and it lacked pleats. He held it out and up, and sighed notably. “You can’t honestly expect me to wear this all day, can you?” he asked petulantly.

“Oh, but I can — don’t you like it?” Maria asked, arching an eyebrow, a slight grin on her face. “Took us some doing to find one in roughly your size and tartan on such short notice, but I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Can you at least leave while I put it on?” he asked, hoping it would give him an opportunity. For what he didn’t know, but even just to stall for a bit longer.

“Nope! No can do,” Maria said brightly. “Put it on, quick as you like, just right on over your boxers.”

He sighed and found a zipper and pulled it down and stood and stepped into it and pulled it up, and zipped it closed. He realized quickly he needn’t have bothered with the zipper, as it was a bit loose and immediately tried to fall down. Maria had thought of that, and she asked him to dig in the bag again as he held it up with one hand. He found a belt and looped it through the loops on the skirt and cinched it to hold it in place. It practically dragged on the ground and seemed like it would be a pain in the ass to walk in.

Maria giggled. “That’s not your waist,” she said, pointing towards his actual waist. “Try up about 5 or 6 inches, will be easier to walk in and it will look better”

He sighed and pulled it up and retightened the belt. “There, are you happy now? I’m in a fucking skirt,” he whined. “Can I take it off now?”

“Now, Randal,” Maria said and wagged her taser at him. “You know the bet was all day, and out with the others, not just in your room. I believe Indira’s got a feminism lesson planned for you all this morning. Go on, get your breakfast.”

He rolled his eyes and decided to just shut up. Nothing he could say or do would stop this — short of taking a taser hit and a trip to the cells for his trouble. He headed for the door and unlocked it, stepping out into the hall. Maria followed him as he headed towards the dining room. It was just cloth, he reminded himself — a garment to cover himself and keep him warm. That’s all it was.

***

“Monica, please,” Derek said, his eyes filled with pleading. “I… I don’t want to do this.”

“I know, Derek. But also, there was something odd about that game yesterday, and it’s been bothering me,” Monica said calmly, sitting next to him. “So I reviewed the camera footage of the game last night before bed. I had thought you were just playing his game, and his game was bad. But you threw those last few hands intentionally; you two could possibly have even won it.”

He sighed and looked at the floor, unable to meet her gaze. He had hoped their cameras weren’t that good. “I…” was all that came out though when he opened his mouth, and even that was choked. He couldn’t figure out what to say, how to say it. His reasoning all seemed so shallow — and exactly what his past self would have done.

“Did you want to wear the skirt or did you want Randal to have to wear it?” Monica asked, putting her arm around his shoulder. He wanted to run, to hide, but Monica wouldn’t let him, and he didn’t want to run from Monica — she’d been the first person to call him on his shit without getting into an altercation with him. But he did want to run from who he had been if he was being honest.

He nodded affirmatively, slowly. “I wanted him to have to wear it. He’s a jackass, and I just, I wanted him to hurt,” he said, his eyes still downcast. “I’m sorry.”

“Goading people into fights was what the you before Dorley did,” Monica asked quietly but seriously. “Do you have a problem we need to talk about?”

He shook his head first no, then yes, and then shrugged and felt tears in his eyes. “I don’t know!” he said, his upset clear. “I don’t want to hurt people, I don’t want to punch, I don’t want to drink, but in that game, I just… I…” he couldn’t finish it.

“It’s not great, but, you are recognizing that impulse, and that in and of itself is progress,” Monica said quietly. “Now, put the skirt on. And don’t worry, it’s nothing too bad, just a simple circle of cloth, and relatively modest at that. Indira has plans for a feminism lesson this morning after breakfast, and most of the eyes will be on her, not you.”

He sighed, and pulled it out of the bag, it wasn’t really his tartan because Connors wasn’t a Scottish clan. Monica had told him it was registered as the O’Connor family tartan when he first saw it in the bag. A fairly simple but pleasant mix of green, black, blue and just a bit of white. She had told him that Randal’s was in the Stevenson tartan to match. He stood and stepped into it, having to add a belt from the bag to hold it up. It wasn’t that it was bad, it was just different, and society hadn’t been exactly subtle in telling him it wasn’t something guys wore.

“I think it looks good on you, Derek,” Monica said, smiling as he stood in front of her. “And I know, you don’t want to hear that, but you will get through this, and I’ll be here all day with you.”

He nodded, and let her open the door and lead the way out into the hall and towards the dining room. Owen was already there, and he looked up and smiled faintly at Derek, and he didn’t laugh — not even a little. He wondered how much Edy had had to coach him to not make a fuss this morning.

He couldn’t explain how he felt about his friendship — his relationship — with Owen. Owen could be such a little git when he got something wrong in his head as the truth. But… having him as a friend was better than being lonely, a feeling he’d spent too much of his life with. And Sophia and Nerys were nice enough, and had even started connecting with Derek and Owen some, but it was still a bit distant. It was fair enough, Derek knew he was dangerous. He felt so angry all the time — at everyone and everything, including himself — and controlling it took every ounce of his being most of the time. And sometimes he failed — like making sure Randal had to wear the skirt today too by intentionally throwing the game.

He sat next to Owen after grabbing a bowl and some porridge, and Monica brought over the hot oat milk container, and quickly poured some for him. When she had stepped back to the wall, Owen leaned over towards him. “Hey, how are you doing?” he asked quietly.

“Fine, Owen,” he said, grimacing, already fighting back the urge to respond testily. To fight. To hurt.

“How… how does it feel?” Owen asked nervously, his eyes flicking down to it repeatedly.

“It’s just a skirt, Owen,” he sighed as he carefully took a bite, breathing on it a bit. “It’s a bit of cloth, something to keep me warm and eyes off parts of me that nobody wants eyes on.”

“But, like —” Owen started to ask, something inane, he was sure. He bit back the knee-jerk response and took a breath.

“Eat your porridge, Owen,” he said quietly, interrupting him, and Owen relented and picked his spoon back up. Randal came in, and he was indeed wearing a nearly identical skirt, but in the Stevenson tartan. Derek threw him a look of not quite sympathy, while he noticed Owen couldn’t entirely suppress his smirk in this instance. Well, more for Edy to work on him with then, he thought and picked up his own spoon to take another bite. More for Monica to work on with me still, for that matter, because I hope he’s hurting wearing it.

Grant and Carl came in and didn’t bother to suppress their laughter at Randal, who glared, but didn’t fight back. They sat down and fixed some porridge as well, and started eating — thankfully ignoring Derek. The only two who were absent still were Nerys and Sophia he noticed, but they were often late to things recently, without the sponsors seeming to care. Another thing that annoyed him but was out of his control. He took another slow breath and finished his porridge quietly. When he was done, he started to stand and Owen grazed his sleeve with his hand. He sat back down, and waited patiently and quietly for Owen to finish.

When Owen had finished, they both stood and walked into the common room together. “Thank you,” Owen whispered quietly as they sat down on one of the sofas. Owen really didn’t like being around Grant and Carl, much less Randal, alone. And while he didn’t want to hurt them, he would act as Owen’s defender if it came to it, — ‘no involving yourself in other’s fights’ rule be damned.

***

Just as Stephanie got back upstairs after seeing Sophia and Nerys to the basement for the start of the feminism lesson, her phone started playing 22. She pulled it out surprised, she hadn’t been expecting a call from Pippa. “Pip!” she answered. “What’s up? How was Valentine's Day with Rani?”

“Steph, I’m in trouble, we all are!” Pippa said loudly and quickly. “It’s Rani! She knows.”

“Knows what?” Stephanie said, fighting to keep her voice calm. She knew the list of things Pippa would panic about was short, and both of them panicking about any of them wouldn’t do either of them any good.

“She found my dilator set last night — I don’t really use them tons anymore, but I had them under the sink next to the loo rolls, and it wasn’t rolled up properly, and she saw them and asked!” Pippa said, barely pausing to breathe.

“Whoa, hey, there are plenty of reasons you might have those, right?” Stephanie asked her sister as calmly as she could. This was one of the worst options, but panicking still wouldn’t benefit her sister or the rest of them. “Did you fall back to your NPH, about having had vaginoplasty due to trauma from an accident?”

“No! Look,” Pippa said quickly. “I spluttered before remembering the NPH story, and she immediately started poking at my story as a whole. She’d seen my estradiol too but dismissed it until she saw the dilators — and she knows it must involve the Hall because of the holes when you combine all our stories.”

“So she suspects it’s Dorley-related?”

“Yes! She wants answers if we are to continue with each other,” Pippa said, sounding pained. Stephanie was worried about her mental state. “And I started to try, but she could tell I was lying, and then I had to tell her I still couldn’t tell her the whole truth, that… it was… complicated.”

“Has she threatened to tell anyone the things she suspects?” Stephanie asked, arching an eyebrow. “Or posted about it online yet?”

“Not as such, no,” Pippa said slower. “But she still might tell someone because she’s upset and might go to a friend for support or something. And that’s fair; she can’t trust me right now.”

“Would she go to Lorna? Or Vicky? Could they be of any help here?” Stephanie asked, barely keeping herself calm at this point. This kind of leak was always a pain to deal with, and anyone with a cis NPH was vulnerable to it.

“That’s just it. She realized somehow this must be the capital T trauma we all share and that that meant Vicky and Lorna are involved somehow too — and even you — and she said she didn’t know whom to trust.”

“Where is she now?” Stephanie asked, hoping she was still with Pippa in London.

“I put her on a train back to Almsworth,” Pippa wailed. “I couldn’t exactly keep her here against her will, and she asked to go.”

“And you’ve alerted the senior sponsors?” Stephanie said putting in an earbud and switching to that really quick, so she could open Consensus.

“Yeah,” Pippa said, sounding tired. “I messaged Indira and Maria; they were understanding at least.”

“Then let them fight this for now,” Stephanie said simply. “And you go get some rest. I’m sure you were up all night worrying about this — go get some sleep for now.”

Pippa laughed slightly manically. “Sorry, it’s just, there was a time I was your sponsor,” she said, her voice clearly on its last nerve.

“This isn’t sponsorship,” Stephanie said as kindly as she could. “This is me, your sister, worried about you. Please get some rest, sis, we’ll figure this out.”

“Okay Steph, I’ll go get some sleep, but you call me if she shows up at the Hall demanding answers, okay?”

“If and when it is prudent and useful to do so! Go sleep. And take a sick day or two.”

“Yeah, sure, thanks Steph,” Pippa said tiredly. “Already took a sick day, and told my boss the real reason, not like she wouldn’t hear through the rumor mill eventually.”

“Love you, sis,” Stephanie said, forcing as much warmth in to her voice as she knew how. She wished she could be hugging her tightly right now, but that would have to wait.

“Love you,” Pippa said, and Stephanie heard her yawn as she hung up the phone.

Stephanie sighed. This was bad. She got to her room and opened the door, she needed to get her bag and go to a lecture. She retrieved it and a coat before heading back downstairs. Stephanie had just made it to the ground floor when her phone buzzed.

Rani: Stephanie, we need to talk. I need answers.

Fuck Stephanie thought. She opened Consensus to a group chat with Indira and the other senior sponsors and headed out the door towards her lecture.

basement dweller:

we have an issue

Rani just texted me asking me for answers.

I don’t think we can dissuade her with the usual lies

she knows too much already about Pippa and her friends

who are all tied up in this place

including me

I’ve got a lecture

I can’t deal with this right now

In Dira’s Name:

Tell her to come to the hall this evening, after your lecture. We will attempt to dissuade her from pushing further and then, if needed, we will read her in.

basement dweller:

and by “we will read her in”

you mean me

I will read her in

In Dira’s Name:

I think it would be good for you to be there, but no, I would not expect you to read her in by yourself.

basement dweller:

but we need someone to talk about their past

mine isn’t the same

Maria:

Ellen? She’s here and done it recently.

basement dweller:

absolutely the fuck not

I’ll ask Rani to come

you lot work out who all will be involved

but not Ellen

In Dira’s Name:

Yeah, no, I wouldn’t ask Ellen.

We’ll figure it out, Steph.

Stephanie switched to her regular messaging app and quickly replied to Rani as she came to the Ant Hill and headed up the steps towards her lecture.

Stephanie: can you come to the hall later this afternoon or evening?

we can talk.

Rani: yeah, I’ll be there, will you?

Stephanie: of course I will

this is about my sister, after all

Rani: See you this afternoon, around 4.

She quickly switched back to Consensus just long enough before heading in to dash off a quick heads up that Rani would be there this afternoon. Paula came up beside her and tapped her on the shoulder and caused her to jump in alarm.

“Woah!” Paula said surprised. “You are jumpy today! Are you okay?”

Stephanie laughed brightly, using every bit of her control to keep her anxiety in check. “Yeah, Paula, I’m fine. Just some family drama has me a bit on edge.”

“You want to talk about it after class?” Paula offered, smiling at her friend, her curiosity, and care for her friend clear.

Stephanie smiled faintly. “Unfortunately, I have to go deal with it after this, but I’ll let you know how it goes!” she promised. And she would, in vague terms anyway. Paula had been a good friend, but all she knew about Dorley was that it was a bunch of disadvantaged girls, a lot of them trans — Stephanie included. The lecturer cleared his throat and started the days’ lesson, and Stephanie turned her attention to it.

***

Jessica woke up with a start and immediately realized she was someplace unfamiliar — that was not her ceiling. She sat bolt upright and took stock of herself: She was clothed, wearing the same things she had been last night, didn’t feel any injuries, and she was sitting on a couch in a very homey living room. Homey or not, though, she felt her heart rate spike with anxiety. She closed her eyes briefly and took a slow breath in and out.

“Oh! You’re awake,” a voice called from somewhere to one side of her. She twisted around and saw Belinda sitting on a chair holding a mug of something in both hands, and was even moreconfused.

“Morning?” she said slowly, no clue if it was morning or afternoon. It was plenty bright in the living room, but she didn’t know which way the house faced.

“Afternoon, actually,” Belinda said brightly. “You doing okay? You were really out of it last night, and even this morning. We were kind of worried.”

“What happened?” Jessica asked, her anxiety rising again. They had gone to the pub or something? What had happened after that?

“Nothing improper, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Rachel said, coming in from what Jessica surmised must be the kitchen. She handed Jessica a mug and sat down on Belinda’s lap with one of her own. Coffee, she realized, and she quickly took a sip of it.

“Oh, I’ve got to get to work!” Jessica said, starting to stand up rapidly. Where’s my phone?flashed through her mind, filling her with panic. And her purse for that matter. Her boss would be so mad at her for having missed half the day already.

“No need to worry about it,” Rachel said calmly and waved her back down. “Your boss texted earlier, and you allow replies from the lock screen, so we sent a brief reply. Feel free to check your messages, we didn’t send anything untoward or revealing, just that you were very sick today, something you ate last night, probably.”

“Oh,” Jessica said, frowning briefly. “Thanks? I guess. That’s kind of a bit much to do on behalf of me; you could’ve woken me when he texted.”

“I told you it would be over a line, Rach,” Belinda chided her wife.

“Yeah, you were right, sorry Jessica,” Rachel said and shrugged. “You were very asleep, though, and we did try to wake you to no avail, and we didn’t want you to wind up in trouble with your boss.”

“So if nothing… improper… happened last night, what did happen?” she asked slowly, her headache becoming evident and the coffee didn’t seem to be helping. She needed painkillers now, but her trust level was at an all-time low.

“Well…” Rachel said, hesitating.

“You told us a lot about your past, your daughter, your marriage, the divorce, why your daughter is gone, and then got very drunk,” Belinda said. “And told us a bunch more. You were in no shape to make it home alone, and we weren’t sure where you lived, so we brought you to ours for the night.”

“Oh geez, I’m sorry, I don’t normally drink much,” Jessica said, putting a head on her hand which was throbbing. She took another cautious sip of the coffee Rachel had handed her. “I hope I didn’t make a mess somewhere along the way. I haven’t it clear to black out drunk since I was a teen, and the only thing I remember from that experience is puking a lot.”

“Nah, you were mostly too busy apologizing,” Rachel said. “Look, uh, Belinda and I, we uh, we don’t know what all you went through, but we’re sorry you went through it. And no, it won’t change us caring about you. You were taken advantage of by a —”

“Bastard,” Jessica said quietly. “He was a bastard. But I let him —”

“Hey, no, abusers like to make their victims feel complicit,” Belinda said, smiling kindly at Jessica. “It’s literally a part of the script.”

Jessica sat there and took another drink of her coffee, it was excellent, honestly, but she still had a major headache. “Yeah,” she said quietly, gazing into the coffee, better than her usual attempts. “It was a thing, it happened, and now… now I guess my daughter is gone.”

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked, getting up off Belinda’s lap and moving closer to Jessica, setting her mug down on an end table.

“I’m… no, not really, but gotta keep going on I guess,” Jessica said quietly, making gestures that it was okay. She wasn’t really sure she believed it anymore. “That’s what I do, keep going on.”

“Woah, hey, uh,” Rachel said, waving her hands. “Don’t give up, there’s no evidence, right? Maybe she did the disappearing act some girls do when they transition. New city, new name, new job, new gender.”

“But… there would be records, right?” Jessica said slowly. Remembering Trev and their nonsense kidnapping theory. There wouldn’t be records in that case.

Rachel looked to Belinda and back to Jessica. “Look, I’ve heard rumors of kids who managed to somehow work the system, to leave no trace between their old and new identity. I’ve even met some people who claimed to have done it.”

Jessica looked confused. “I mean, I work with the council some, changing records like that…” she said, her voice drifting off. There were a lot of cracks in the systems. Possibly, it would be doable.

“Rach! That’s not nice,” Belinda said, tossing a wad of tissue at her wife, who shrugged with an ‘it’s true’ expression. “Please, Jessica, while I am concerned about where your mind is, please don’t hold on to false hope. Is there a chance your daughter is still out there, somewhere? Yes. But what will be, will be, and in the meantime, is there anything we can do to help you.“

Jessica smiled at them. “Honestly, just running your group and being you is great, and uh, this coffee is wonderful, Rachel. But I really must be going, I need to figure out how much trouble I am in with my boss, and I’ve got to retrieve my car from the community hall.”

“Sure Jessica,” Rachel said, smiling warmly and standing up, offering her hand to Jessica. “Your purse is by the door, your phone’s beside it, all charged, ready to go.”

Jessica stood with Rachel’s help and accepted a quick but warm hug from first Rachel, then Belinda. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you two next week for group, right?”

“Yup! And you’ve got our number and whatnot,” Belinda said, smiling and returning her wave. “And Jessica? Please reach out if you’re not in a good place, whether to us or someone else. We understand that you’ve been through an incredibly difficult situation.”

“I will, thanks,” Jessica said, picking up her bag and heading out their front door. She realized she had no idea where they lived, but pulled out her phone and realized it wasn’t all that far to where her car should be parked next to the center. She started walking in that direction and hoped her car was still there.

***

Tabby nudged Carl along the hall and into his room after lunch. He had been laughing about Randal off and on all morning, and she had had enough of it. He had stopped every time she cleared her throat or nudged him with her taser, but half an hour later he would be back at it again. He sat on the bed when she pointed at it. “Cuffs,” she barked at him — she was taking no chances right now. He complied quickly and easily, thankfully.

“I have a question, Carl,” Tabby said, pulling the chair over and sitting down facing him. “You had a younger sister; did you laugh at her for wearing a skirt or a dress? And before you answer, I have a second question. What would you have done if someone else laughed at your sister for it?”

“No, I didn’t laugh at my sister!” Carl said quickly, his annoyance clear. Tabby merely leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “I would’ve hurt anyone who laughed at her.”

“Even when you were younger?” Tabby asked.

“No. Okay? I love my sister,” Carl said in an indignant tone, but unable to look at her.

“You had a fucking funny way of showing it, Carl,” Tabby said bluntly. They had discussed this before a bit, but Carl shut down every time she mentioned it. “I seem to recall that you — in a fit of anger over some minor spat — spread rumours online that your sister was a lesbian. And then you made sure everyone in her school saw it — laughter was the least of her issues then.”

Carl sat there, silent but not shut down, she noted; he was actually almost looking in her eyes and she saw pain, but not retreat. “Now I know that you know what Randal did, and you and Grant have mostly stopped associating with him as a result,” Tabby said slowly. “Tell me, what the hellwas the difference between what you did, and what he did?”

“I, I didn’t do it to lots of people?” Carl said slowly, frowning, glaring at her.

“You didn’t,” Tabby said, a slight smile on her face that switched rapidly to a scowl. “Instead, you did it to someone you claim to love and care deeply about. Someone for whom, you said just now, you would hurt anyone who laughed at her.”

Carl looked back up at her, his eyes flaring in anger. “She…!” and then he fell silent and cast his eyes back downward, but not completely withdrawn.

“She hurt you, she told someone a small secret about you in confidence, seeking advice on how to support you. That person let you know she knew and supported you,” Tabby said, arching an eyebrow and leaning in closer. She’s not gotten him this far in a bit, and she knew now was the time to press more. “And then you lashed out at your sister and shared personal info about her to her everyone.”

Tabby got the expected sunken expression as it really hit home. “You did it to plenty of others you claimed to care about too, you know,” she said, leaned back a bit.

“To whom?”

“Oh, let’s see here, the list we would’ve put on screen if you had been the standout at disclosure. Emily, Hannah, Nicole to start, and of course Jennifer — who brought you to our attention. You were nice to them, at first. And then once you knew them, after they annoyed you, you hit their buttons regularly. Because you could, because it felt righteous at the moment, pushing back at whatever imagined slights you felt tenfold.”

Carl sat there looking at her, engaging with her the most she had seen in a while, and she suppressed the urge to cheer right there. There’ll be time for that later, she told herself.

“And then today, with Randal, you couldn’t fucking help trying to push his buttons about wearing a skirt — a thing which we didn’t give him a choice on. He handled it with more dignity than you or Grant did, though, and you did the same when we were using a different name for him.”

“Oh, come on!” Carl said, clearly annoyed. “That’s a double standard — I bet you were all laughing at him about his name behind the scenes constantly, and today too.”

“No, actually, I was mostly curious to see whether he would learn anything. He seems to have learned from the name thing, a tiny bit at least. The question is, are you learning anything?”

“I am, okay?” Carl said defensively. She wasn’t entirely sure if this was another gambit, but she was going to let him have a bit of room to talk. “I get what I did to my sister was wrong, and I know I like to press people’s buttons. But Randal—”

Tabby leaned forward and interrupted Carl, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look her in the eyes. “But Randal, rotten as he is, is still a human, and you are still trying to press his buttons when he’s already vulnerable because of what we are doing to him. Fucking stop it.”

Carl nodded slowly. “I’ll try Tabby, honest,” he said quietly, and as earnestly as he had ever said anything to her.

Tabby nodded. “See that you try your very best,” she said, looking him straight in the eye before releasing his chin.

Tabby knew he still had a ways to go, and so did Grant, and Randal and all the others, but he had made good progress today. When he first arrived, he quickly found what he thought were several of Tabby’s buttons and started pressing them. He quickly got frustrated when she didn’t react and tried moving to other targets. Privately, though, he had hurt her deeply multiple times, and Levi had had to comfort her in the evenings afterward without knowing exactly who had hurt her.

She smiled at him as she stood and walked over to the door. “I’ll release your cuffs, and you can return to the common room,” she said, unlocking his door. “If you will stop laughing at Randal. If you laugh at him again about the skirt or his name, I will treat it as a strike, and you will get a cell trip, and I’ll replace all your pants with skirts for good. I need you to say you understand and agree if that’s the case.”

Carl nodded slowly. “I understand and agree, Tabby,” he said, looking up at her. She knew he meant it. She clicked the remote, releasing his cuffs and opened his door and stepped out into the hallway towards the stairs. When she made it past the landing doors, she exhaled long and slow and took another deep breath. He would make it, he had turned a corner in the programme, she felt.

***

“Aunt Bea?” Indira asked, rapping on the door frame of Bea’s office. “Do you have a moment?”

“Oh! Dira,” Bea said, looking up from her work and taking her glasses off. “Dear, yes, of course, I always have a moment for you.”

Indira walked in and shut the door, and locked it behind her. “I’m afraid you won’t like this conversation much, Bea,” she said, sitting heavily across from Bea.

“Oh?” Bea said, arching an eyebrow. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s your conversation with Mary last night,” Indira said calmly. “I’m not happy with you meddling with how I and my sponsors decide to handle things. Nerys is progressing nicely, and Mary was simply rewarding that progress.”

“Nerys is still a programme participant, though, correct?” Bea asked, raising an eyebrow minutely.

“Yes,” Indira said, nodding, “she is. But she’s progressing faster than almost anyone has. Even Vicky wasn’t quite this self actualizing at this stage.”

“Vicky knew the expectations of her, though,” Bea said, frowning.

“And so does Nerys, and so does Mary,” Indira said. “The programme has been changing. Perhaps you noticed the self-aware trans girls?”

Bea sighed. “I’m well aware it’s been changing,” she said and crossed her arms. “But Nerys wasn’t a self-aware trans girl at arrival, she’s a regular programme participant picked up for escalating toxic behaviour.”

“Just because things aren’t being done how they used to be, doesn’t make them bad,” Indira said. “Just like you phased out the deportment portions of our lessons doesn’t make the younger graduates any less of a woman than I became.”

Bea sighed. “You aren’t wrong,” she said, smiling faintly. “Some days, I realize I’m clinging to a past that should be left behind.”

“We all sometimes do, Auntie,” Indira said, smiling. “The programme needs to continue to change, but please, trust me, I’m not going to let any of them graduate if they aren’t ready.”

“I’m sorry, dear, and thank you for, as they say, calling me on my bullshit,” she said and leaned back in her chair for a moment. “And Indira? Tell Mary I’m backing off, just tell her to continue what she’s doing, she’s doing great.”

“Thank you, Bea,” Indira said, and her phone beeped. “If it’s not one thing it’s another, I’ve got to go deal with the Rani mess, she’s on her way.”

“Oh, I’m surprised you didn’t bring Christine in for it — I seem to recall Rani knows her,” Bea said before putting a hand up, which made Indira’s smile increase a bit. “Sorry, yes, I trust you.”

Indira laughed brightly. “I asked her, and Teenie flat out told me, ’No!’ Can you believe it? After all I did for her, Auntie,” Indira said with a grin.

“The nerve,” Aunt Bea said, laughing. “Go on, and good luck with reading her in, hopefully she isn’t difficult.”

“Thanks, Bea,” Indira said, smiling and standing to leave her office and head down towards the kitchen.

***

Lorna hurried to keep up with Rani as she stomped rapidly along the path to Dorley Hall. She had gotten Rani’s hurried texts this afternoon and agreed without a moment’s hesitation to come along. She had decided not to inform Dorley she was coming with Rani, though — as much as she knew the programme worked, and wanted to protect it, she had great sympathy for Rani. Rani knew Lorna knew something about this place, and that was bad enough without her snitching to them that she was coming with Rani.

Vicky had decided to stay out of this round, through, and that was fine with Lorna; no sense dredging her past up directly to Rani as well. She wasn’t sure who Stephanie would be using as the example, but she was glad it wouldn’t be Vicky. The front doors to the lobby were open; in they walked, and she saw that one of the kitchen doors was propped open, waiting.

As she entered the kitchen with Rani, she saw Indira was leaning against a counter next to the AGA, and Stephanie was seated at the kitchen table near the door. She was surprised to not see any of the others around, she had figured at least one more would be here, Pippa, or maybe Christine. “Rani,” Indira said, smiling and gesturing to the table. “Come in, take a seat.”

Rani stepped forward but didn’t take a seat and crossed her arms. “We know this is going to be hard for you regardless,” Stephanie said, smiling and standing and gesturing at a seat as well. “Please, this will be a lot, it’s easier to take in seated.” Stephanie deftly stepped behind them and tripped the door stopper and quickly flicked the biometric lock and it cycled audibly.

“You’re locking the door? ” Rani asked shooting a look back at Stephanie. “I thought we were friends, Stephanie. Friends don’t lock friends in when all they want is answers!”

“I’m sorry about this,” Stephanie said quietly as she returned to her seat. “You must understand that we have a lot of people we care about to protect. Answers about Pippa is necessarily answers about all of us, and we don’t want anyone barging in unaware of whats going on in here.”

Rani raised an eyebrow, but did relent and sat down slowly at the table, switching her glare back and forth between Stephanie and Indira. Lorna sat beside her, between them and her, a buffer between Dorley and Rani. Stephanie sat back down in the seat she had been in before slowly, and smiled faintly.

“So, this is your out — right now, you agree to stop poking, we back off, and you don’t learn the secrets,” Indira said calmly. “I realize secrets can be toxic to a relationship, and if you can’t continue without knowing, Pippa would understand. If, though, you insist on being told her secrets, our secrets, you will have to sign an NDA, and anything we tell you is covered by it. It is ironclad, and we will defend it. So, what will it be? NDA and answers, or back off and move on?”

“And if I don’t sign it?” Rani asked, annoyed. “Pippa leaves me hurting to go scam someone else?”

“She’s not scamming you,” Indira said, frowning. “She just has things she can’t tell you until you sign the NDA. Pippa has told us she wanted to tell you, but feared the outcome. If you continue to press for answers without signing the NDA, though, we have other ways of dealing with you. They are not pleasant, and you will still not get answers.” An icy edge had slipped into Indira’s voice that Lorna had rarely heard her use.

“Is this your capital-T Trauma, Lorna?” she asked, looking at Lorna, nervous.

“One part of one instance, yes,” Lorna said quietly, nodding. She had other trauma, some of it was Dorley related, but she couldn’t discuss any of that with people who weren’t disclosed. Not without risking Vicky and Christine and everyone else she cared about from Dorley. She wanted Rani to know — she thought Rani and Pippa were great together and had been overjoyed when they got back together. But she also knew secrecy was toxic to relationships and either she should know the truth, or get out. “Look, it’s going to be difficult to hear what they will tell you, but if you care about Pippa, if you want to know her, this is the only way.”

“And if I sign, and don’t freak out after being told,” Rani said, raising an eyebrow, “will I get to accompany her to the parties? The one she loves so much, she keeps coming to them despite whatever horrible things this place did to her?”

Indira laughed lightly. “Sorry, it’s just an unusual response,” she said, smiling brightly. “Yes, invites to the Christmas Eve party and any others that might require disclosure is included, provided you don’t freak out or try to hurt those we are protecting.”

Stephanie pulled out a tablet from her bag and tapped a moment, then slid it across the table towards Rani. “This is the NDA. Feel free to read it, take your time, and while we aren’t lawyers, we will answer what questions we can before you sign.”

“I’m not a lawyer either,” Rani asked, taking a quick glance at the dense text. “But I’m guessing I can’t have my family friend who’s a lawyer even read it, can I?”

“No, I’m afraid not; that would require us to read them in as well,” Indira said calmly. She turned to face the AGA and started a pot of oat milk heating.

Rani sat there reading the NDA, her frown deepening as she read. When she finally got to the end of it, she leaned over to Lorna and frowned. “Is… is it worth it?” she asked quietly, “I… love Pippa, but Jesus the stuff in here is terrifying.”

“If you really care about her, then yes, it’s worth it,” Lorna said quietly. She knew it would be hard for Rani to hear; this abattoir was a lot to take in. And yet somehow it works, she thought briefly.

Rani sighed and took the stylus offered by Stephanie to sign her name, and then impressed her thumb on the scanner. “Fine, okay, whatever horrors await,” Rani said, flinching a bit. “I have to know Pippa’s truth.”

Indira exhaled slowly and took the pot off the stove and started mixing various things together. “So, the secret that Pippa couldn’t tell you, Rani,” Indira said, smiling. “Is that she wasn’t always Pippa. I wasn’t always Indira, and Stephanie wasn’t always Stephanie.”

“Well, I mean, those last two are obvious?” Rani said confused. “You’re trans, Indira, we’ve been to protests together. Hell, I’ve met your mum at one of them. And Stephanie’s never been shy about being trans — I honestly think if she could walk around wrapped in just a trans pride flag all day, she would.”

Stephanie smiled faintly at her joke. “It’s more about how we transitioned,” Stephanie said quietly. “This place isn’t a usual transition.”

Indira nodded and started filling mugs. “All of us Dorley girls — me, Vicky, Stephanie, Christine, and others — were kidnapped by Dorley Hall and our transitions were not voluntary,” Indira said calmly. Rani sat there, and the colour drained from her face, and Lorna entwined her hand with Rani’s. “The programme exists for reform. Every one of us until Stephanie had been doing terriblethings, mostly to women. We kidnap young men who are on dangerous paths and turn them into young women and set them on a better path.”

“You kidnap … boys?” Rani asked confused. “And what about Stephanie? You said she was different.”

“I was a self-aware but closeted trans girl who got herself kidnapped accidentally,” Stephanie said, chuckling nervously. “I hadn’t done anything wrong, well, besides denying who I was a lot.Even when faced with the realities of this place, it took me time to fully accept myself.”

“That just raises so many more questions,” Rani said, confused. “But what, how, who would kidnap boys, much less trans girls, and what does that have to do with Pippa? Does that have something to do with the dilator set I found?”

Indira nodded. “Pippa, like us, was kidnapped by Dorley Hall, and taken into the basement and forcibly transitioned,” she said and reached into another cabinet. “She had been hurting people, and we stopped that, and she’s a better person now.”

Rani just sat there for a bit, Lorna held her hand and hugged her tightly. “That’s, that is a lot to take in,” she said slowly, finally. “This programme that is run here, that… kidnapped her… she…”

Indira nodded and finished filling the mugs and handed one to each of the women, and Rani immediately took hers and clung to it as if it were a life preserver. “It is a lot to take in. Usually, it helps to have an example,” Indira said calmly, a faint smile on her face, and she took a sip from her own mug. “I’ve not done this in a bit, but here we go. My past is my past…”

***

Randal sighed as Maria followed him into his room after dinner. It had been a draining day, and he really wished she would just leave him alone. “What do you want from me now, Maria?” he asked exasperatedly as he immediately started removing the skirt, tossing it in a corner as soon as it was off. “Surely, you’ve had your jollies already.”

“Just to talk about your day,” Maria said, leaning against the door, her hand resting near her taser as he sat on the bed in his boxers. “How was it?”

“Exhausting,” Randal said, too tired to fight her right now.

“Why was a piece of cloth tiring, Randal?” Maria said, tilting her head slightly to one side, as if it was completely perplexing that a skirt could be tiring to wear.

“It, it just was, okay?” he snapped, glaring at her.

“Was it exhausting for Alistair when he had to pretend to be a girl?”

“I don’t know, probably?” he said, but quickly realized what he said. “No, okay, it wasn’t because…” His train of thought lurched to another halt. No. Misgendering Alistair was not a good move today. He was extremely unbalanced tonight, and he hadn’t had time to collect his thoughts and arguments for this encounter with Maria.

“Careful, Randal,” Maria said, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, it’s different!” Randal said annoyed.

“How so?” Maria asked.

Her eyebrow seemed to be stuck raised, Randal thought. “Because…” Randal said drawing it out. He was trying to remember whatever nonsense Indira had talked about, was it last week? What was it? Oh. Right. “Because women are marginalized and for a man to be seen as a woman is considered humiliating by the patriarchal—”

“— male dominated society. But for women to be seen as men is perceived to be striving to be like men who control society,” Maria took over from him smirking. “While I’m glad you could remember a near exact quote from your textbook that Indira covered today, I had hoped for a more original thought from you. Also, Alistair was a man having to pretend to be a woman.”

Fuck, Randal thought, he didn’t think he had gotten it that close, and was it really today’s lesson? He had tuned most of it out as usual. He sat there as Maria looked at him, evaluating him, as his mind flashed through various thoughts. “So, Randal, how did it feel today?” she asked again. Persistent bitch.

“I already said it was exhausting,” Randal said, rolling his eyes.

“I wear skirts or dresses almost every single day, and yet I am not tired,” Maria said, tilting her head to one side and gesturing at her dress. “And you after a single day look like death warmed over.”

“You’re…” he stopped himself quicker, discarding his original thought, that she was a woman. “I get it, okay, you’re stronger than me,” Randal sighed.

“No, I don’t think you do get it. It's not about strength,” Maria said, smirking at his attempt to change the direction of the conversation. “It’s about flexibility. You are inflexible. You hold yourself to impossibly rigid standards which are made up, in no small part, by people like you. You might be stronger than I am in some shallow sense of the word — or you were before coming here — but you are fragile, brittle. A simple scrap of cloth has you exhausted.”

“So why don’t you wear pants?” Randal asked, feeling pretty good about that question.

Maria grinned at him as if he had asked the thousand-pound question. “Because skirts are simply more fun!” she said and laughed. “Also, I’ve worn pants around you multiple times, and you either never noticed or just forgot. Because a woman wearing pants isn’t that noteworthy to most. Today could’ve been fun for you, if you’d let yourself.”

“In what way could today have been ‘fun’?” Randal asked, doing explicit air quotes.

“Well, that’s a pretty nice skirt for twirling in,” Maria said, and gave held up a finger pointing down and did a spinning motion with it. “Not as nice as a highland dancer’s kilt, maybe, but still pretty fun if you let yourself have it.”

“I didn’t do ‘skirt go spinny,’” Randal said, again air quoting. “And yes, I know that stupid meme. And I have no intention of ever doing it.”

“Your loss, Randal,” Maria said, shrugging at him. “Today wasn’t about humiliating you, and how many people said even one thing about what you were wearing? Even Grant and Carl merely briefly laughed. Admittedly repeatedly, but Carl stopped entirely after lunch. When he came back, he left you entirely alone, and even tried to get Grant to leave you alone.

“The only person shouting at you about wearing the skirt, is right there in your own head,” Maria said and tapped the side of her skull. He could tell she had some scar there, her hair grew a bit odd there. What had happened to her to give her a scar like that? he sometimes wondered.

“Grant and Carl were only restrained by you lot,” Randal said and rolled his eyes at Maria. “Tabby probably threatened Carl with punishment if he didn’t stop after lunch. It would be different if you weren’t here; they would’ve treated me like…” and his mind caught short at where his train of thought was headed. Dangerous territory that he had already gotten too close to.

“Like your site treated trans people?” Maria asked, again raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Randal said, trying to salvage things. “The world has no mercy, and the freaks need to know that.”

“And you personally had to do that?”

“Yes,” Randal said coldly, but unable to meet Maria’s gaze entirely. There had been other sites, but it was an important task and there were so many people out there to turn away before it was too late and society really got them in its sights.

“You didn’t think for a moment that maybe you should fight to make the world better?” Maria asked, her eyebrow still raised. “Maybe make it a world less likely to attack them?” Randal glared at her. He refused to respond to an attack that was so patently wrong. “Maybe, I don’t know, did you ever think that you might be the problem, that you were the one causing problems for your site’s victims, and not the world at large?”

Randal continued glaring at her, wishing any kind of nonsense magic was real, so that he could cause her to vanish simply by willing it. “Who spread the photos of you kissing Alistair?” That caught him off guard. His face faltered for a moment in resolve, but immediately returned to glaring. He knew she had seen it; she was good at catching the tiniest slips. “I think, Randal, that is all for tonight.” She turned to unlock the door. “Oh, and do be sure to read the care instructions on your skirt’s tag, it’s a bit more complicated than washing a jogger suit. You’d better not mess it up; you wouldn’t like what happens when you mess up the laundry intentionally.”

Randal continued glaring at her as she opened the door behind her and stepped out into the hall. When she was gone, he flopped back on his bed and wished for a swift end for them all, but Maria especially.

***

Rani sat there listening to Indira freaking Chetry, of all people, talk about her past self as if she had been a monster. A boy who had been raised in a loving, stable home of privilege, and had no reason to act out, but who was hurting in ways he couldn’t understand. And when people noticed something he had done, he was just nice and that usually got them to back off. He learned being nice could be a powerful tool for manipulating people, and he practiced weaponizing it.

He wasn’t a stereotypical Nice Guy, some fool who thought being nice earned him something and would blow up when he didn’t get it. No, he was worse. He used it to manipulate others, to his gain and their detriment. He got away with it for a time because of his family’s money and connections, and because they couldn’t see the truth. Deep underneath it all, he was still hurting,and he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he justified it by telling himself he was just betterthan his victims. That they deserved it for their naïveté.

And then Dorley Hall found him. He had hurt one of the students living on an upper floor. A person who had no idea of the things that went on underground here. They kidnapped him, and put him in the basement, and gave him hormone therapy without telling him what it was. It was like the first two pieces of a new puzzle clicked together. Bit by bit, the puzzle filled in, and the picture became clearer. Whatever he had been, whatever the cause of his pain, she was a woman now, and the pain was gone.

Whatever the puzzle of his life had been shaping up to be before Dorley — Maria, Ashley, and the others broke the old puzzle apart quickly. At almost the same time, they started reassembling it, building her new self, until she got to where she could help assemble herself.

By the time Indira graduated, she knew why she had hurt all those people, and she was a better person than she had been a few short years before. And she found her calling: Helping boys who were hurting society and being hurt by society, like she had been. Helping them become kind, amazing women like her, often by using the tools she had learned before. Kindness weaponized, only now it was for a purpose greater than her own personal gain.

She had known Indira for several years now; they had attended events and functions and protests together. This preposterous story didn’t fit at all with the Indira she knew. And yet, Indira Chetry was sitting here, telling her she was not just a victim of a kidnapping and torture ring, she was now a part of it. A big part of it, it seemed. She felt her pulse quicken, her breathing became unsteady. This was horrifying. This was why they had locked the doors — she wanted nothing more than to run far away and never look back.

Some time after Indira finished talking, she realized she was just sitting there, all eyes on her, and they were filled with concern. She shook her head and took another sip of the cooling hot chocolate. “So it’s real, then?” she said quietly.

Lorna beside her nodded. “I’m afraid so,” she said quietly. “And without it, Vicky and Pippa wouldn’t be in our lives.”

“Wait, what about you, Lorna?” Rani asked turning to Lorna. “I mean, you know about this place, are… are you like them?”

Lorna laughed. “I’m a free range trans girl, if that’s what you mean — no torture basements in my past,” she said. “But these women have more in common with me than you might think at first, so don’t go painting them with a completely different brush in your head. And someday, if you’re ever that interested, you should chat with some of them and me about our theories as to how this place operates.”

“Be sure you’re really interested, though,” Stephanie said laughing. “They will talk your ear off for hours if you let them.”

Rani laughed and then went immediately pale again. “And there’s nothing I can really do about it, is there?” Rani asked quietly.

“No, not really,” Stephanie responded, matching her volume. “There’s significant money and power backing this place, and they will defend it using pretty severe methods if needed.”

“And Pippa? What… what did she… do?” Rani asked, looking at Stephanie and Indira pleadingly.

“Her past is her past. If you want to hear it, you should hear it from her,” Stephanie said, smiling faintly.

“You know it, though, don’t you?” Rani asked, focusing on Stephanie. “And you know she would tell me, right?”

“I do know it, and I know she would,” Stephanie said, nodding. “But it’s not my story to share, with you or anyone. However… I guess I could probably share my story, most of it, anyway.”

“Oh?” Rani said curious. “Does it have to do why you, an innocent trans girl, got yourself kidnapped by this …maddening… place? And how?”

Stephanie laughed. “Yeah, so uh, short version is, Pippa is who kidnapped me,” she said, shrugging and grinning.

“Wait, your sister kidnapped you?” Rani said surprised. “At least, I think you call her sister? I know you aren’t like, actually related.”

Stephanie laughed. “No, she’s not my biological sister, but yes, yes she did kidnap me,” Stephanie said smiling and fiddling with a bracelet, one Rani knew Pippa wore an identical copy of. “So back in 2019, I went to a party — it was supposed to be me reaffirming to myself my decision to give up and live as a man. Instead, I met Christine, and near the end of the night when we were both pretty drunk, she mentioned she had to return home to Dorley Hall. And I had been looking into Dorley Hall for reasons that aren’t entirely my story to tell either, and I told her I thought I knew the ’big secret,’“ Stephanie furiously finger quoted.

“Christine panicked, and she dragged me here and dumped my blackout drunk arse in the bushes under Pippa’s window,” Stephanie said, grinning. “Then Christine screamed like an absolute monster was after her and ran away and immediately started crafting a fake history for me in digital university records that implied I was a bad guy. She wanted to keep me here while she tried to figure out what I knew about Dorley. And then Pippa threw me in the basement, thinking I was a fitting person based on Christine’s hurried forgery. And then Christine told me the truth, and I told Christine my truth, and I decided to stay here, with Pippa as my then-unaware sponsor.”

“So… Pippa is a part of this… this den of horrors?” Rani asked slowly. “Complicit in kidnapping?”

Indira smiled faintly. “No, not really,” Indira said. “Yes, she acted as Stephanie’s sponsor initially,but after we learned who Stephanie really was, and why she was here, their relationship became the sisters that you know. Stephanie was her first, last and only charge.“

“Oh,” Rani said quietly. “I’m not sure if I entirely get how that’s any better though. I mean, Stephanie, wouldn’t you —”

“— No,” Stephanie interrupted quickly and a bit too strongly before softening her tone. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Without this place, I wouldn’t be who I am, I wouldn’t have the friends and family I made here, and I probably would’ve entirely lost my biological family without Pippa, including my younger sister.”

“And…” Indira said, smiling proudly at Stephanie. “What Stephanie won’t tell you is, she is responsible for drastically improving the programme for the better.”

“Wait, so you’re involved with this… this abattoir… Stephanie?” Rani asked, sounding shocked and looking horrified. “How, why?”

Stephanie sighed. “I ask myself that a lot, honestly I do,” she said tiredly. “But, I was who pushed for us to start taking in trans girls.”

“Wait, you take in trans girls now too?” Rani asked. “As in kidnap them without them being aware at all like you were?”

“Okay. Look,” Stephanie said, putting down her mug and frowning, fiddling again with her bracelet. “I was the first person to ever arrive in the basement already wanting to transition. After I was discovered, I continued pretending to be one of the boys while I secretly helped the sponsors, and the supposedly cis boys proceeded through the programme faster and with less fuss than they ever had before. Like, Ellen renounced her deadname a month after they told the others in my intake they would be turning us into girls. It was unheard of!

“And at the same time, I saw that the programme was pouring an obscene amount of resources into our transitions. I got hormones, orchi, electro, trach shave, FFS, bottom surgery, voice training, a clothing stipend, and three years’ room and board for free. Some of the other girls got vocal surgery or top surgery — whatever they needed. And we all got —” Stephanie gestured at the room around them, “— this place. A community of women who had all gone through the programme before us, who all support us and help us grow. And apart from me,” and her voice began to rise, “everyone who got that was someone who didn’t want it when they got here. Meanwhile, trans women across the country died waiting three years or more for an initial bloody GIC appointment!

“So I gathered support from my Sisters, and we went to the powers that be here with this message: Let’s bring in trans girls, and we can make every year as successful as mine had been. And now we put out feelers to find trans girls in trouble, and we try to find ways to help them without bringing them in first,” Stephanie said, smiling faintly. “There’s one in Manchester who got two-thirds of her FFS funded by one large anonymous donation from us; there’s one in London couch-surfing with a trans elder we know there, rent-free until she finds a job; there’s one near Edinburgh who couldn’t keep HRT at home, so one of our Sisters gives her a jab every week; there’s a femby with a full-ride scholarship and a free room four floors above our heads, and ey doesn’t know anything we’ve told you today. None of them do.

“And there’s one girl this year —” Steph said, her voice cracking, “— who just couldn’t catch a break, regardless of what we tried. So I made her the offer, and I couldn’t tell her everything in advance, but I asked her: If you could transition, but you’d have to leave everything behind to do it, would you? And she said yes. And now she’s in our basement, and I go downstairs every day and teach her makeup, and help her with her voice, and watch sappy romcoms with her, and make sure the boys don’t hassle her and her girlfriend, and do her hormone shots, and reassure her that yes, the orchi is just a few more weeks away, you can make it. And in two and a half years, or even less, she’ll graduate from the programme. And she still won’t have the parents who threw her out before she even sat her A-levels just for being trans, but at least she’ll have me. Her big sister forever, just like Pippa is mine.

“So yes,” Steph said, wiping away a tear, then looked Ravi in the eye unflinching. “I kidnap trans girls. Because sometimes, in this disgusting excuse for a country, that’s somehow the kindest thing I can do for them.”

Rani put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. This wasn’t capital-T Trauma, this was all caps TRAUMA. “I just, I don’t see how it can work. You should all be walking trauma boxes. And I feel like I should do something, but I take it you’ve already got contingencies for if I rush off to the bloody Yard or something.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Indira said, smiling faintly. “I’m not saying you couldn’t hurt us, but you would be hurting Pippa and everyone she cares about in the process.”

“Worse,” Lorna said, she had been surprisingly quiet during all this, but she had been there, holding Rani’s hand. “This being exposed would set back trans rights nationally, and probably globally. Possibly for decades to come.”

“Right, yeah,” Rani said slowly, the true risks dawning on her. “I guess Indira Chetry was forcibly feminized would be kind of a bad headline to wind up splashed everywhere.”

“Quite,” Indira said, taking another sip and standing. “We can and would do a lot to prevent that happening, but I think you understand the position that we, Pippa, and now you are in. This is a secret that must be kept.”

“But why continue it at all? Surely, you could just shut it down and keep the secret?”

“Because it works,” Indira said earnestly. “I know I told you some of who I am, but even that was only a scratch of the surface for the kinds of harm we’ve prevented. We have stopped well over a hundred young men from hurting those around them.”

Rani nodded slowly. “I’ve known a lot of you for years and I don’t understand how you were anything other than kind, helpful, thoughtful young women. I still don’t quite believe it.”

There was a knock at the door to the lobby. Stephanie got up and headed over, and she heard the lock cycle. “Oh hell,” she heard Pippa say behind her, and she turned to see the shocked look on Pippa’s face. “You told her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, they told me,” Rani said, tears in the corner of her eyes as she stood and took a surprised Pippa into her arms. “We should talk, privately.” She pulled back from the hug and Pippa nodded.

“No one goes in the back rooms, plenty of privacy back there,” Pippa said, taking Rani’s hand. “I’ll show you.” Rani allowed Pippa to lead her out of the kitchen through the impressive dining hall and towards the back rooms.