Chapter 25: Almost no one comes down here, unless, of course, there’s a problem

2024 March 31, Sunday

Sophia entwined her hand with Nerys’s as they descended the stairs together and as they approached the bottom, she casually brushed her hair back and smiled over at Nerys. Their matching violet and yellow dresses were elegant without being gaudy, and she loved them. She had been surprised Nerys had agreed to her idea; of course, she might have asked right after an intense make-out session, so that may have had some impact.

But here they were, wearing matching dresses, and Nerys must have noticed her looking over as she turned to match Sophia’s smile. She quickly turned back to focusing on descending the stairs in the new heels that she was still getting used to. It had really surprised Sophia when she’d wanted to try them after her orchi. Sophia suppressed the urge to giggle at the memory of her first attempts at walking in heels — Rabia nearly had to break the walking boot back out. But Nerys had persisted, and was getting better, although stairs were still difficult.

Sophia wondered again whether she was lucky, or cursed to have wound up here. On the one hand, Nerys was the love of her life — she hoped to grow old with her, and Stephanie was like the sister she never had. But on the other hand, the things they did here concerned her a fair bit still, and her role in them was something she was still troubled by. The casual way Maria described how they’d used her this morning was at least as upsetting as being found out. But she was also about to go into a room filled with the results of the programme, which were difficult to argue with.

Yesterday afternoon, when Sophia was hanging out with Stephanie up in her room up on the third floor, Ellen had come in babbling about who all was coming to Easter lunch. Sophia barely knew who most of the names were — but she had promised they were all simply wonderful people to meet and who would be delighted to meet Sophia. More shining examples of the programme’s graduates and their lives — and all of them interested in meeting her, which was something she was still unsure how to feel about.

Stephanie and Ellen told her that she and Nerys were going to be seated at the 2019 cohort’s table, and that the whole group would be together for the first time in a while. Evelyn and Mary would be there, of course, but also a few others Sophia hadn’t met in person yet. Stephanie had talked about her intake some,and Sophia had seen Renée and Aspen in Consensus occasionally, but Annette remained an enigma who Stephanie wouldn’t talk about much. The most Steph would say is that Annette had reasons she hadn’t been around lately, and she might or might not decide to talk about them.

And of course, Melissa, Abby and Shahida were bringing Amelia, who Sophia was excited to meet, having heard about her almost nonstop in Consensus since Valentine’s Day. Her mums seemed nice in their brief encounter on Christmas Eve, and in random encounters around the Hall. And of course, Stephanie had countless stories about Lissa, her sister, without whom, ‘Steph’ wouldn’t even be here at the Hall — and in turn, Sophia wouldn’t either.

Sophia had even agreed with Melissa that they could refer to Sophia as trans around her. There was no doubt in her mind about her future NPH — she was trans through and through, and it would be such foolishness to go with a cis NPH and have to hide that part of her too. And Amelia was so important to her, proof that better was possible: a trans girl who would get to grow up as herself and who had an extremely supportive family.

One of the names Ellen rattled off that she did recognize was Summer, and her mysterious guest Persephone. She knew they had been using the electrolysis equipment because Holly was bemoaning Summer’s preferences in setting up things. She hadn’t met Persephone yet, but had caught a glimpse of her in passing a couple of nights ago when she was on her way back downstairs after a voice lesson. How they intended to keep the rest of the basement a secret from her for all the time her red hair was going to take to deal with, she didn’t know, but that was the senior sponsors’ concern.

She felt increasingly nervous as she thought about who all was coming. She had done Sunday lunch upstairs a few times now, and Nerys had once as well, but this was also her first big formal gathering since Christmas Eve. And there would be so many more people here than for the usual Sunday lunch. More eyes, more people she didn’t know, more people she could have her voice falter around, as it so often did when she was nervous.

Nerys must have noticed her nerves as they stepped off the bottom of the stairs, because she squeezed her hand. “You’ve got this, Pinkie,” Nerys said, smiling warmly.

Sophia squeezed her hand and matched her smile. “We’ve got this, Rainbow,” she said, forcing her voice as far forward as she knew how.

They walked towards the entrance to the dining hall that was already bustling with people chatting, to see Stephanie and Mary standing beside the entrance waiting on them. “There you two are,” Stephanie said, mildly exasperated, gesturing at her wrist. “About time you showed up.”

Sophia smirked. “We tried to get here just as quick as was feasible, all things considered,” she said. “We had to get all cleaned up, after all.”

“I’m sure,” Mary said, winking at Nerys. “Come on, you two, let’s go be social.”

Mary extended her arm for Nerys, and Sophia grudgingly let go of Nerys’s hand as she took Stephanie’s arm in turn. They stayed together as they entered and saw Melissa turn and grin at them and wave them over immediately. “Hello again, Sophia,” Melissa said as they walked up, and offered a hug.

Sophia accepted it, letting go of Stephanie’s arm. “It’s good to see you again, Melissa,” she said. “I hear you have someone new with you?”

“It’s me!” a bright voice called and popped out from behind Melissa. “I’m Amelia! I’m new! Are you Sophia?”

“I am!” Sophia said, leaning down to offer the young girl a hug.

“Mama says you’re like me?” Amelia asked quietly as she took the hug, but quickly released it.

“I am,” Sophia said, smiling. “And Amelia? This is Nerys, my girlfriend.” Sophia gestured to Nerys who smiled and waved from where she was speaking with Mary and Abby, and got a wave in return from Amelia.

“Hi Nerys!” Amelia said brightly, if maybe with a slight lisp.

“Hello, Amelia,” Nerys said with a slight tremor to her voice. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you!” Amelia said brightly, before stretching up closer to Sophia and lowering her voice. “Mama also said your family didn’t like you being, uh, like me?”

Sophia smiled weakly. “They didn’t, but that’s okay,” she said after taking a breath and letting it out. “The family you choose can be as good or better.”

“I chose mama! And mum, and mother!” Amelia said, proudly, pointing at each one as she said it, then lowered her head a bit. “I, uh, I miss my real mum and dad, but I’ll share my new mums with you if you ever need one!”

Sophia laughed brightly. “That’s very sweet of you, thank you,” she said, smiling. “But I’ve got plenty of Sisters here, I’ll be fine without borrowing one of your mums.”

“What, don’t want to call one of us ‘mum’?” Shahida asked, smirking.

“You’re not even ten years older than me!” Sophia said with a laugh. “Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting you, Amelia. Hopefully, we’ll get to see each other again soon.”

“Yes!” Amelia said brightly. “Mum, can we hang out sometime?”

“We’ll see when everyone’s schedules align, kiddo,” Melissa said. “But I’m sure they will at some point.”

“Okay!” Amelia said and quickly went back to her bag and promptly held up a colouring book. “You want to colour? I just got a new book!”

“Oh, I’m afraid we have other people to go meet,” Stephanie said brightly. “Another time, though, for sure.”

“For sure!” Sophia said brightly. She stepped over to Nerys and took her hand again and smiled and waved at Abby. “Hey, how’s it going over here?”

“It’s okay, it was good talking to you Abby,” Nerys said smiling. “You, uh, have an interesting perspective I hadn’t considered before.”

“A pleasure, Nerys,” Abby said warmly. “And I’d be happy to talk some more in the future on it!”

The four of them started to step away from Melissa’s table, and Nerys kept glancing in a particular direction, her face filling with a mix of anxiety and annoyance. “Ugh, they’re doing it again,” Nerys said and rolled her eyes.

“Who’s doing what?” Abby asked, still nearby.

“That table over there. The same people who kept staring at me at the Christmas Eve party,” Nerys said, sighing. “I wish they’d stop, I’m nervous enough as it is.”

“Ohh, the 2018 polycule,” Abby said. “Yeah, they have a tendency to do that.”

“Oh, you haven’t met them? They’re fun! They’re probably just surprised by you being up here again,” Sophia said, smiling and pulling gently on Nerys’s hand. “I’ll introduce you, then this can stop.”

“Oh, fine,” Nerys said, letting Sophia pull her along. “Let’s go meet them.”

“Hello everyone, hi Ellen,” Sophia said as she approached the table. “Nerys, this is the 2018 polycule: Rebecca, Faye, Mia, Aisha, and I’m truly sorry, but I forgot the other two’s names. And all of you, this is Nerys, my girlfriend, who really wishes you would stop staring at her.”

“Oh, we know who she is,” Mia said, wearing cat ears that were slightly incongruous with her nice dress.

“You do?” Nerys asked quietly. “From the Christmas party?”

“Well…” Faye said. “We actually know about you from before Dorley.”

“Oh,” Nerys said quietly. “I, uh, I’m trying to be better.”

“Don’t get us wrong,” Mia said, grinning. “We kind of liked some of your stuff, although a lot of it was depressingly hetero and monogamous. But —”

“— but we were who brought you to the attention of Dorley,” Faye continued. “You had used some pictures we posted online for a series of captions.”

(“That we liked!” one of the others interjected.

— ”Oh, yeah, the Halloween one? That was kinda hot.”

— ”We should roleplay that some time.”

— “But where are we going to find that much candy?”)

“When we asked politely for you to take them down, you refused rather rudely. We wouldn’t normally have even asked —”

(“Yeah, we aren’t narcs!” A different one inserted.)

“— but there were —” Faye’s voice dropped to a stage whisper, “— concerns about secrecy with that particular photo batch. We got quite a dressing down for having even posted them.”

“Oh,” Nerys said. “I’m so sorry, I uh, never, I didn’t —” her voice trailed off as she stumbled over her words.

Sophia stepped forward and narrowed her eyes. “Nerys’s past is her past,” she said strongly. “She’s trying to be better, to move on.”

Ellen, sitting at the table, nodded. “She’s been making good progress, and I know we all have things we’d rather not be reminded of, right?”

Mia whispered something to the other girls and grinned big, and suddenly, they were all exchanging looks. “Right, Ellen, of course. We didn’t mean anything by it — also, while we’re confessing things, we uh, we had a betting pool,” Rebecca said, glancing at Mia. “Mia won.”

“A betting pool on what?” Mary asked, arching an eyebrow and putting her arm around Nerys’s shoulder. Sophia hadn’t heard her walk up but realized she’d tugged Nerys away from their chaperones.

“On whether you were an egg or not,” Mia said, grinning. “I won. I also won whether you would come over at all today if we kept glancing at you.”

“I’m sorry about the photos,” Nerys said quietly. “I really don’t know what else to say, and looking at you from up close, I remember the pictures now, and I’m sorry. But… also…”

“Yes?” Faye asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

“A part of me is weirdly glad because otherwise I might not have wound up here. I wouldn’t have met Sophia and Mary and…” Nerys blushed hard and buried her face in Mary’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Let bygones be bygones,” Faye said. “Right?”

A chorus of “Right!” went up from the combined polycule.

“Then,” Mia said, grinning, “welcome to Dorley Hall, Sister.”

Nerys whispered something quietly to Mary, who nodded and led her off to another table to sit down, leaving Sophia standing there feeling like a bump on a log, and Stephanie wasn’t in immediate sight. Ellen quickly noticed and stood up from the table, and walked over to her. “Come on Soph, that’s our table they headed towards, let’s go join the others.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly to Ellen once they were a bit farther away. “That was… awkward.”

“That’s the 2018 polycule in a nutshell,” Ellen said, grinning. “They are the living embodiment of awkward to anyone outside the polycule, or sufficiently into their humour. I’m quite fond of hanging out with them, but they don’t live nearby, so we mostly exchange quips on Consensus.”

As they approached the table, Sophia realized Stephanie wasn’t at the table either and looked around, and then she saw her sitting on a couch next to someone talking. It took her a moment to place who it was, but it was Becky. “Oh! Nerys,” she said brightly and pulled her from Mary’s hand again, “come on, one more person to introduce before lunch.”

***

Becky walked into the Hall alone, thankfully largely unnoticed except by Ellen. She found a couch in the corner that was unused and sat down to soak in the atmosphere a bit. She wasn’t a big fan of crowds or tons of overlapping conversations, but that’s what gatherings with her Sisters were often like. She wasn’t exactly sure what table she was going to be seated at, but she figured it would probably be Indira’s table with Christine and Paige and likely Melissa’s family. Becky was sure someone would find her and let her know eventually where she should be at — they always did.

In the meantime, she looked around the room full of mostly women dressed far nicer and more appropriately than she had managed, in her simple, relatively modest, knee-length, black A-line dress. Her formal event dress as she thought of it. Weddings, funerals, Easter lunch with her Sisters. She had a larger wardrobe of fancier clothes while living here at Dorley Hall but left most of it behind for the next year’s new girls when she graduated. Indira had tried to get to take at least some of it with her when she moved out, but she had insisted on sticking to the more modest fare that she could sustain on her stipend and job.

Becky lived fairly simply in a small flat, and took a low-pressure job in a bookstore to supplement her stipend. She’d gone out with a few people since moving out, but nothing had stuck. Her boss was a survivor from before the modern programme, but beyond that she rarely interacted with anyone from Dorley save Indira. Her old sponsor would stop in at the bookstore any time she was in the city visiting her family; without fail, they would chat for half an hour or more until her boss would walk by and sigh heavily, at which point Indira would giggle, then invite Becky out before leaving.

Sometimes it was to dinner with Indira’s family, sometimes it was to go clubbing — the former was definitely preferable to the latter. Indira’s family was lovely, of course, just like Dira herself. Aasha was a force to be reckoned with, and Hasan was always so sweet to her, but Indira’s parents and sister only knew Becky as a shy little cis girl that Indira had befriended at Saints. An NPH decision that Becky sometimes regretted, but she remembered before Dorley still. When being a non-passing trans woman had gotten her hurt on more than one occasion.

And occasionally, Becky would relent and go out with Indira to a club and dance with the guys and girls Indira talked her up to. The last time that Becky had met a girl that way, she went out with her for a whole month before Becky’s inability to truly connect with people became insurmountable, and the girl broke up with Becky. Indira had swooped into town with ice cream and let Becky cry it out on her shoulder, and then they laughed as they watched Pride and Prejudice and Zombies together.

After Becky had started feeling better, Indira chided her for not opening up more. Just because Becky transitioned in a torture basement and had done a cis NPH didn’t mean she couldn’t let someone in at least a little. She may have tossed a throw pillow at Dira for that. Indira wasn’t wrong, but… it was no easier now as a supposedly cis girl than it had been as the lie that she existed as before Dorley.

Indira had practically ordered her to come today; she insisted that she should come, meet Sophia, see Melissa’s daughter, be reminded that she has family and friends here — all she has to do is reach out. She also gently pointed out that several cis NPH Sisters with partners they met outside Dorley would be coming this year; Becky could ask them for advice, but only if she really wanted to.

She didn’t go unnoticed for too long on her couch in the corner because, suddenly, she realized Stephanie had sat down at the other end of the couch from her. Becky hadn’t even noticed her approach, and wasn’t sure how long she’d been there. Becky jumped a bit when she saw her. “Jesus, Steph, when did you become a freaking ninja?” she said after taking some deep, slow breaths. “Give a girl a little warning — a cough or something.”

“Heya, Becky,” Stephanie said quietly. “I wasn’t being particularly stealthy, but you seemed quite lost in thought and I didn’t want to disturb you, so I thought I’d just sit here and wait for you to notice.”

“You probably would’ve disturbed me either way,” Becky said with a sigh, and looked briefly around before continuing. There weren’t any undisclosed people she recognized, and the crowd was happily chatting noisily away, but just the same she lowered her voice a bit. “How goes the sponsoring?”

“It’s going well,” Stephanie said brightly. “And you know that Sophia’s excited to meet you — that’s her over at my cohort’s table.” Stephanie gestured in the direction of a table of people Becky recognized all too well, and two younger girls in matching dresses.

“I’m a bit surprised you didn’t just spring her on me,” Becky said, unable to keep her nerves filling her voice. This place was too much and too noisy at things like this, even Easter was too much. Maybe next year she’d visit on Arbour Day or something.

“Come on, Becky,” Stephanie said. “I know you know me better than that. I do care about you, and I know you don’t like that kind of thing. Although it’s probably only a matter of time before she spots us over here.”

“But locking me —” Becky said, grinding her words to a halt. Best behaviour, she reminded herself. “Sorry.”

“No, fair shot,” Stephanie said, raising a hand in surrender. “But after you got upstairs and were living next to me?”

“You only noticed me when Ellen or Pippa wasn’t around, which wasn’t that often,” she said with a sour expression before once again tamping down the memories. “So which one of the two obviously first year girls over there is she?”

“She’s the one in the violet dress,” Stephanie said. “Nerys is in the yellow.”

“Matching dresses just like on Christmas Eve? Wow,” Becky said, the amazement slipping into her voice. “If you had asked me back at this stage to wear something matching with another girl, I think I would’ve spat in your eye. Still might, honestly.”

Stephanie laughed. “Believe it or not, this was their idea this time. Oh, shit, they spotted us,” Stephanie said, grinning and waving by curling her fingers. Becky watched as Sophia grabbed Nerys’s hand and dragged her towards the pair of them on the sofa.

“Is it too late to bolt for the door?” Becky asked behind a fairly forced smile as the pair of them dodged through the tables and people.

“I’m afraid so; if you bolt now, she’ll just pester you on Consensus until you come back,” Stephanie said, giggling. “Might as well face the music.”

“Becky!” Sophia said brightly as she got close enough. “So good to finally get to meet you in person!”

Becky watched as she held open her arms for a hug and sighed internally and put on a smile and accepted the hug while still sitting. “It’s good to meet you too, Sophia,” Becky said. “And I take it your friend here is the much-talked-about Nerys?”

“She is!” Sophia said brightly, and she took Nerys’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. God, they were tooth-achingly sweet together; she had to tamp down her jealousy again. “Nerys, this is Becky; Becky, this is Nerys, my girlfriend.”

Nerys blushed through her makeup. “I’m pleased to meet you,” she said in a voice that Becky could tell was early days, but she was trying. “You were in the year after Stephanie, right? The second trans girl?”

Becky laughed brightly — Nerys was just so earnest that she couldn’t keep up a grumpy demeanour seeing her. “Yes and no and both at the same time,” she said, pausing briefly to grin brightly. “It really is wild to think that Stephanie and I are only a year apart. I’m still the disaster that I am, and Stephanie’s out here just proving it actually can be done.”

“And you spent most of your first year upstairs?” Nerys asked.

Becky saw genuine curiosity in Nerys’s eyes, so she bit back the brief flash of anger that that question generally inspired from younger Sisters who didn’t knowher. “That I did,” Becky said, pausing briefly, trying to decide how best to put it without dampening Nerys’s mood too much. “I was in a bad place when Stephanie made her offer, and when they… picked me up, I was pretty freaking desperate. The pandemic had hit hard, I lost my job, I had to move back in with my parents who vaguely knew I was dealing with gender things, and they were not dealing well with it. I was venting online a lot, and I said sure, I’d leave it all behind to have transition when Steph DM’d. Figured it was a joke, a fantasy.”

Well. So much for not ruining the mood, she saw Nerys’s deepening worry. “And then I woke up downstairs. Honestly? I was still on board, at least until Indira told me the catch, then I got pretty damn upset at her. Our relationship was pretty hostile that first month, and then I slipped up. The boys learned I was trans before disclosure, and they started heckling me, and I reacted badly. I gave in to the anger and lashed out physically. At them, at Indira, anyone who got within reach really. Honestly? I think Indira was starting to consider properly washing me out —”

“— Indira wouldn’t have —“ Stephanie interrupted, reaching a hand out to Becky’s leg.

“— She told me, Steph,” Becky said, frowning and looking at the ground. “She told me in private after I graduated that there had been quite an argument between Elle, Bea, Maria, and her. She and Maria sided with me, and they moved me upstairs, and eventually Indira finally got through to me and things started to improve a bit. But Elle was very displeased that I put an entire intake at risk.”

“Oh,” Stephanie said quietly. “They never… I would’ve…”

“I know you would’ve, Steph,” Becky said, smiling faintly. “Anyway, yeah, I spent that first year mostly upstairs, with mainly just Indira for company, as you second years had your own things you were up to. I got pretty lonely, and I only kind of reconnected to my intake after they made it upstairs.” Time to try to redeem this disastrous trip down memory lane, she put on a bright smile. “But Nerys, please don’t worry about me. I love Dira, and I love my sisters, and sure, there were rough spots at first, but it wasn’t all bad — Dira knows how to hold quite a slumber party.”

“I hear my favorite sister!” she heard Christine call brightly from the other side of her. “Becks!”

“Teenie!” Becky said, turning to greet her, putting her smile back on. “How’s married life treating you?”

Christine grinned. “Great! Paige is around here somewhere,” Christine said, looking around. “I heard you talking about Dira.”

“Yeah, uh,” Becky said, looking back towards the ground, trying to force her smile back on. “It’s nothing, Teenie.”

“No, Becky, it’s okay,” Christine said, reaching a hand out towards Becky’s shoulder. “Honestly? We fucked up with you. And I think if you actually talked to Dira about your time here and didn’t just avoid the topic whenever she visited, she would tell you the exact same thing.”

“I absolutely would,” Indira said as she walked up behind Sophia. “I felt my ears burning. I’m sorry, Becky, really and truly, you needed help, and you were in no position to help anyone. And yes, I know, ‘sorry’ can’t fix it by itself — we have been trying to do better since then, putting more effort into helping trans girls without involving them.”

“I’m glad,” Becky said, smiling. “And I hope it hasn’t been too bad for you, Sophia, Nerys?”

Sophia blushed. “It’s had its, uh, downsides,” Sophia said slowly, carefully. The kind of care Becky remembered when trying to convince them she wasn’t a threat. “But I met Nerys here.”

“And I met her here,” Nerys said, turning to look at Sophia briefly before looking back at Becky. “And I’m sorry you had a hard time at first.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Becky said, smiling. “And thank you, Nerys.”

“You and I should talk more at some point,” Indira said. “And not just about books, or romance or whatever. And again, I really am sorry.”

“Hey, I finally got to be me,” Becky said, smiling broadly. “And it wasn’t all bad. Maybe we could talk this evening? If you don’t have plans, that is. I don’t have to head back to the city until tomorrow. I intended to crash on Kaitlyn’s couch if she’d let me.”

“Of course,” Indira said, her warm smile reminding Becky of the good times she’d had. “Assuming, of course, the place isn’t on fire by then, but Hasan and I don’t have any plans — and I know Kaitlyn has to be around here somewhere.”

“Thanks, Dira,” Becky said, trying to match Indira’s smile. “And to you, Nerys, I’m so glad you’re doing well.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you got to be you at least,” Nerys said, smiling. “I still am not entirely sure who I am — or who I will be.”

“How well I know that place… you’ll figure it out eventually,” Becky said, smiling distantly, remembering her own struggles. “And in case I don’t see you again today, I want to tell you that I am awed by you.”

Nerys blushed hard, and Sophia let her bury her head in Sophia’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she said quietly, muffled by Sophia’s dress.

“And that appears to be lunchtime,” Indira said, noticing the second year’s starting to bring things out. “Shall we find our seats? You’re at our table, of course, Becky! Come, enjoy some lunch with us.”

Becky smiled and accepted Stephanie’s help to stand up from the couch, making sure to smooth her dress back out. It was weird and bittersweet being back, but it wasn’t anywhere near as scary as she had made it out in her mind.

***

“Grant, why did we need to come to your room just to talk about football?” Carl asked, annoyed. “The couches are a lot comfier.” He was still digesting lunch and wanted to lay back on the couches and watch terrible TV — not hunch on the desk chair because Grant refused to let him sit on the bed with him.

“The sponsors are all distracted!” Grant said, as he shut the door. “You saw how only a couple of them were around when they brought down lunch, and then quickly retreated? And how they were all absent this morning? They must all be enjoying a nice quiet lunch upstairs, and then the’ll all be stuffed and sleepy. Who knows, there might even be some people who don’t know what goes on down here! They could bring the police down on this place!”

“Our chance to what?” Carl asked, annoyed, sitting down on the desk chair. Grant was still standing and pacing around the small space of the room. “We can’t even get past the first set of doors without one of them down here to unlock them, much less up the stairs. And if they’re so distracted, why would they even come down?”

“So we start a commotion — surely someone is loosely monitoring the feeds to all these cameras. We get one or two of them down here to deal with us, thinking they’ll just push us back into our rooms with their tasers, and then we grab one of them,” Grant said. He paused in his pacing to glare at Carl as if what he said was the most obvious thing ever.

“Grant… you heard Randal,” Carl said slowly, knowing it was risky to bring him up. “We can’t escape; the only way out is through.”

“You agree with that… that complete pillock?” Grant said angrily. “You think I’mbeing irrational?”

“Maybe… a bit… and, I know you would rather not hear it… but, Grant, I did some bad things,” Carl said, unable to meet Grant’s eyes. “I kind of belong here, I think. Also, I mean, Derek had a point too, we’re all headed there eventually — I might as well start thinking about my future, and, uh, who I might be.”

“So now you’re thinking about names too? What the fuck, Carl?” Grant shouted.

Carl hesitated — it wasn’t that he was actively considering names like Derek was, apparently — but he wasn’t sure how to answer Grant without upsetting him further. And he was surprised that Grant had latched on to names rather than his confession. That hesitation, though, was enough for Grant to grab on to and jump to conclusions that weren’t entirely accurate. Not yet anyway.

“No, this ends now!” Grant said with a finality and immediately turned and pushed his door open quickly, stepping into the hallway before Carl could even stand up.

“Grant, wait!” Carl said, reaching out for the door, but Grant had already shut it, and then he heard the lock cycle and sagged back on the chair. Shit, Carl thought, I can’t unlock his door from inside.

Carl hesitated briefly again, uncertain what to do. Maybe Grant was just going to start a verbal row; that would probably be enough to get a sponsor down here. But no, he was pretty sure Grant had a violent side when he got really mad, and he didn’t have the intelligence for the restraint it would take to get just one or two sponsors. He’d be lucky if he didn’t wind up with the soldiers involved, and certainly, he would get more than the desired one or two sponsors.

He reached slowly for Grant’s phone on the bedside table, pulling his hand back briefly before just going ahead and grabbing it. Carl clicked the button to get to the home screen — it wasn’t locked, none of the devices seemed to be able to be locked. He opened the Message Sponsor app and slowly typed a message to Grant’s sponsor, Pamela.

Grant:

Pamela, it’s me Carl, Grant locked me in his room, and he intends to attack someone, he wants a sponsor to come so he can force her to unlock the doors

There was no response in the app, although that wasn’t terribly unusual — Tabby sometimes left him without a response for hours. Although considering the content, he was surprised how long he sat there waiting. Did I do the right thing?He wondered, I just snitched on my only friend down here. Some friend he’d been, though, they traded barbs more than anything, and… he’d told Tabby he was trying to be better. How could he really be better if he continued to be friends with someone not moving?

***

Pamela wished she was eating upstairs with the others but keeping an eye on what Grant was up to today was too important. She was thankful she hadn’t invited anyone to lunch, or she would’ve felt even worse having to cancel on them last minute. Charlie was eating at the desk next to her, but focusing more on the monitors than she was. The computer dinged, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Pamela,” Charlie said urgently as she shoved her plate out of the way for the keyboard. “It’s time. Grant’s left his bedroom with Carl locked in, and Carl just pinged you on Grant’s phone.”

Pamela looked up from her plate. “About fucking time — was beginning to wonder if he actually would blow. Start alerting the others.”

“Already sending it out to all staff on the duty roster,” Charlie said as she typed the message into the alerting software. “You want me to reply to Carl?”

“No, he’s Tabby’s charge, let her be the first to tell him that it’s okay to have snitched.”

“Got it,” Charlie said, nodding and hitting enter with finality. “You want to head on down?”

“No,” Pamela said, frowning briefly. “He needs this to not be personal. I need him to be taken down by someone besides me.”

“Soldiers?”

“After we’ve cleaned up the initial mess, to help with hauling them to the cells,” Pamela said. “But Grant and the others need to see us capable of fielding people even in the midst of Easter lunch.”

“Got it. I guess now we watch and wait, then?”

“Yeah,” Pamela said, frowning, bringing up the monitors on her laptop and pushing her plate aside. She watched on the screen as Grant burst into the common room, and through the security office’s speakers she heard the start of the confrontation.

***

Nerys sat at the table with the help of Mary, next to Sophia, with Stephanie on the far side of her. Nerys realized she didn’t know the others at the table, and they were busy chatting with each other when they had sat down. “Sisters,”Stephanie said, interrupting the others, and getting their attention. “Nerys, Sophia —” she gestured at the others, “— I’d like you two to meet the other graduates from our intake. Going around from Ellen that’s Annette, Renée, and Aspen (they/them), then, of course, Evelyn.”

The people Stephanie introduced couldn’t be more different; that was oddly comforting to Nerys, who had been mildly concerned they stamped a cookie cutter mold on the graduates. Annette had a seemingly easy grace to her every movement. She wore an elegant dress in a yellowish cream with a couple of filmy outer layers to it that Nerys didn’t really know the name for — but she did know enough now to know there had to be one. Her dusty blonde hair was cut in a short wavy bob that was quite classy and reminded Nerys of some movie character she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps most surprising about her, though, she only had a single glass for water in front of her, while the others had wine glasses available and several had some wine already poured in them. Nerys had yet to meet any of the women here who didn’t imbibe at least some.

Renée was roughly average height for the girls here, but her makeup was far fancier than Annette’s understated look. She wore what Nerys had to guess was a very spendy dress that fit her curves stunningly, and Nerys felt she would’ve looked more at home at some posh ball as arm candy than she did here in Dorley Hall. Her dark brown hair was in an elaborate updo that was, like everything else about her, fancier than almost everyone here. Nerys was somewhat surprised she’d gone to such lengths, given that the dining hall was definitely a bit faded around the edges. And if it wasn’t for the size of the gathering, it would’ve felt like just a nice family lunch.

If Renée was overdressed, Aspen in their plain cloth vintage-looking dress was on the other end of the spectrum. Their long light-brown hair had strands that were woven with little beads and bits of string, and they were wearing numerous bracelets in a wide variety of materials. They didn’t seem to be wearing much, if any, makeup, but as Mary had told her, it could be hard to tell if done right — at least, once any beard shadow Nerys had was dealt with. They looked vaguely familiar, and Nerys tried to dredge up why from her pre-Dorley memory.

“Hello,” Sophia said pleasantly while Nerys took them all in. “A pleasure to meet you all in person finally! Also, Nerys is my girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Nerys said shyly, doing a little finger curl wave. She blushed, remembering that Sophia had told her that wave only made her moreadorable.

“Lovely to meet you both,” Aspen said brightly. “It’s so wild to have a regular first year here. Wouldn’t have been me!”

“Asp,” Renée said, smirking. “It’s a wonder you made it up here at all.”

“Hey!” Aspen said glaring. “It’s not easy becoming yourself.”

Annette laughed demurely. “Glad you two haven’t changed one bit since we were last together.”

“You look vaguely familiar,” Nerys said, looking at Aspen. “Do you, uh, sing? And, like, post music videos on TikTok?”

“A fan! See, Renée? I have fans!” they said and stuck their chin in the air. “Even among the current intake!”

“You’d have more fans if you’d stop with the random interludes of hardline Marxism,” Renée said, smirking. “I mean, I’m all for fixing the capitalist hellscape as much as the next woman, but you’ve become a borderline tankie!”

“Annette!” Aspen pouted. “Get Renée to be nice to me. She’s always picking on me about my objectively correct politics.”

“Sorry Asp, Renée is right just this once,” Annette said, with a wicked smile. “You do folk covers of pop songs, not run some stuffed-shirt podcast about how the —” Annette’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, “— the feminizing torture basement is a luxury of the bourgeoisie.” She finished with a wink.

Aspen huffed and crossed their arms. “Bunch of bullies,” they muttered.

“So to absolutely change topics…” Ellen asked, raising an eyebrow as the second years started placing plates at their table. “I hear you have news, Annette.”

“I know what her news is,” Evelyn said in a sing-song voice.

“Tease!” Annette said, laughing. “It’s good news, honest — and not boy-related either!”

“Spill!” Aspen said.

“I’ve been selected to be a part of a limited showcase of up-and-coming artists,” Annette paused briefly. “At the Tate Modern!”

“Oh, my, god,” Renée said. “Annie, that’s spectacular. You must be sure we’re on the list for the opening.”

“Oh for sure! It’s not until this winter, and I’ve already put in all your names,” she said, grinning.

“Oh, wow!” Sophia said. “That sounds wonderful — I’ve never been to London. I wish we could go too.”

Nerys nodded. “Uh, well, if we’re allowed, I wouldn’t mind,” she said slowly. “I know I’m still a first year.”

“Well you’d be second-years by then, and your face swelling would have gone down by then, likely,” Aspen said, grinning. “And of course your sponsors would be there — I’m sure it would be fine.”

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t think we could swing this with Indira,” Mary said slowly. “Much less Bea and Elle.”

“Yeah,” Stephanie said, smiling sadly and patting Sophia’s hand. “I’m sorry, kiddo, it would be too early in your second year for such an excursion, even as the trans girl.”

“Yes, of course,” Sophia said demurely, but her face belied how sad she was.

“There will be other gallery openings,” Annette said softly. “I’m sorry Sophia, Nerys, you absolutely will get to come to one of them someday.”

Sophia merely quietly nodded in response, and Nerys put a hand on Sophia’s on the table and smiled weakly at her. Nerys was sure Sophia had already started dreaming of what they could wear together to a London gallery opening — Nerys, though, pushed away a wave of nerves about something that would likely never happen. During their conversation, the second years had finished placing plates at their table — and after her romp earlier with Sophia, Nerys was pretty hungry and started to reach for her fork and knife.

“Just a moment,” Mary said, putting her hand on Nerys’s gently.

“Yes, sorry,” Evelyn said. “Just a moment of silence for the people not here.”

The others all closed their eyes briefly, and Nerys stayed quiet until they opened their eyes. “Who’s not here?” Nerys asked quietly, looking around, every chair was occupied.

“The washouts,” Mary said solemnly. “Those who didn’t survive, couldn’t adapt, couldn’t reform.”

“Oh,” Nerys said. “I guess we have one of those. Did your group?”

The others at the table looked uneasy. “Yes and no,” Mary said waggling her hand. “She, uh…

“She?” Sophia asked confused. “I thought you told me you don’t know what happens to them — and I thought it always happened earlier than, uh, ‘she’.”

“Generally, we don’t,” Stephanie said, nodding. “But ours was…ours was a special case — kidnapped on the way to whatever normally happens to washouts by people who, well, people we are very glad are now gone.”

“You don’t want us to open this can of worms. Trust me,” Mary said quietly. “Anyway, now you can eat.”

Nerys nodded. Conversation didn’t entirely stop as they ate, but Nerys was somewhat distracted, and it was fine, she didn’t like her voice tons still, the less focus on her the better. She was surprised at how quiet and withdrawn Sophia was — usually she was quite convivial at the Sunday lunches they had been to before today.

“So, to not entirely hog conversation from our honored guests,” Annette said, looking at Sophia and Nerys. “How are things going for you two in this delightfully absurd place?”

“Oh, wonderful,” Sophia said, smiling briefly before her face turned to a frown. “Minus the others figuring out who I really am this morning.”

“Ouch,” Renée said. “I did not take learning Steph was in on things well.”

“Water under the bridge,” Stephanie said, smiling at Renée. “And it’ll be fine, Soph — they’ll mostly move on quick enough.”

“And how about you, Nerys?” Aspen asked. “What music of mine have you heard?”

Nerys thought for a moment before responding. “Just a couple of them. The folk cover of Hard Out Here, for one — it made me, uh, laugh, about the idea of, uh, growing a pair of tits. I, uh, I’m working on getting better.”

Aspen laughed brightly. “That one was pretty popular,” they said. “The weirdest things catch on. And nothing to apologize for, I’ve laughed at it too! I forgot my balls and grew a pair of tits, too. It’s good to not take yourself too seriously.”

“And uh, otherwise I’m doing well enough,” Nerys said, smiling faintly. “The, uh, orchi was a thing, it happened, I lived. Turns out my fears and worrying were all for naught, but still unsure if I would want to have any other surgeries, it still scares me.”

“Well, you’re going to be gorgeous,” Renée said with a surety that Nerys wished she could manage about her future. “Whether you do anything else or not.”

Nerys blushed hard. “Thanks,” she said. “I don’t see it yet, but thanks.”

The food was excellent, and the wine was good — not that Nerys was any judge, and commented as much. The others started talking about it some and agreed it was well paired to the meal, describing it in terms that Nerys barely understood. Annette still only had a glass of water and simply didn’t participate in the discussion, and Nerys realized it might be making her uncomfortable — like certain topics did her. “Sorry, Annette,“ she said, looking around at the others. “I didn’t even think, you probably don’t like this conversation.”

“Oh! Dear, thank you, but it’s okay. I’m quite used to the wine mums effect, and if my arsehole of an ex can’t get me to backslide, nothing will!” she said brightly. She put on a big grin and raised her water glass, “Four and a half years sober!”

The others cheered and picked up their water glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry about your ex,” Nerys said when they’d finished. “And good, uh, good for you.”

“He’s beneath me now!” Annette said with a wry smile on her face, and the others of her intake joined her in laughing louder and harder than she would’ve expected. Nerys glanced at Sophia, who looked just as confused as Nerys was, and shrugged.

“Apologies, girls,” Annette said, putting her fingers delicately in front of her mouth. “Another story for another day.”

“Oh, sure,” Nerys said. “I’m glad he’s not around anymore.” Which just set off another round of laughter from the others, which Nerys and Sophia still didn’t understand, but nervously chuckled along with.

The conversation returned to mostly normal, with no more weird bouts of laughter from the older women at the table that they didn’t understand, for which Nerys was thankful. They progressed from the starter course to the main course of lamb. And then when most had finished the course, but before the dessert had been brought out, the buzzing started, and Mary, Stephanie, Ellen, and Evelyn all quickly silenced their phones, remaining seated. But Nerys noticed multiple sponsors at other tables attempt to head discreetly for the stairs down.

“Nothing for you two to worry about,” Mary said quietly to Nerys and Sophia. “The others will handle it.”

***

Owen turned as the door to the common room banged open and Grant strutted in, clearly already very pissed, fists balled and an evil gleam in his eye. As he walked in, he looked briefly at Randal, as if deciding whether he would be an issue before focusing on Derek. He took another brief glance at Randal and then screwed his sneer up another notch as he turned back to Owen and Derek and started walking their way.

Owen and Derek were sitting on the couches near the TV, doing nothing much but being near each other. Derek was reading from some book Monica had given him about anger management, and Owen hoped it was helping. Owen had his back leaned against Derek’s shoulder, facing the TV but not really watching it, just enjoying the contact. Owen didn’t know what Randal was doing, but he’d been quiet, so Owen had tried to put him out of his mind. He was lost in his thoughts about names, this place, and… Derek.

Derek and he hadn’t voiced much in words about what they meant to each other in the time since reconnecting after their orchis, but they were getting closer than they ever had been before. Like a wall of ice that had been between them was melting away, leaving just them standing there awkwardly looking at each other — seeing each other without distortion for the first time. The idea that Derek was thinking of names had been a bit of a surprise, but he hoped Derek would talk about it some tonight when they were alone in Derek’s room watching TV together.

Owen realized he’d let his mind wander as Grant stomped over, and Grant was now standing next to the far arm of the other couch near the TV, simply glaring at them, fists still clenched. “You’re a piece of shit, Derek, you know that?” Grant said suddenly, his voice filled with an undeserved smug superiority. Derek flipped the page and ignored Grant, but Owen could feel him tense up in his shoulders, and Owen shuffled his position some, wishing he could hide behind Derek. “Why are you going around putting ideas in Carl’s head like that? He’s fine — he doesn’t need a new name!”

Derek still didn’t raise his head, but Owen could feel him tense up a bit more. “Talk to me, you piece of shit barfly,” Grant said angrily.

“Calm down, Grant,” Randal called from across the room. “Some of us are trying to read. You do know how to read, right, Grant?”

“Shut up, Randal!” Grant shouted over his shoulder. “If I wanted the opinion of a doxxer and suicide-pusher, I’d ask for one!” Owen could see the fire in Randal’s eyes briefly, but surprisingly, he didn’t respond further and quickly went back to his book. Grant turned back to facing Derek. “Come on big man, big tough man, get angry at me. That’s what you liked to do, right? Pick fights and then wait for the other guy to throw the first punch? Well, I’m here, and I’m already fucking pissed at you! Half your work is done! Now all you have to do is let me throw the first punch.”

Owen knew Derek was already plenty mad, he could hear Derek’s breath change, doing one of the breathing exercises he’d told Owen about. “I’m going back to my room,” Derek finally said quietly, putting a marker in his book before standing slowly, and setting his book aside. As Derek stood, he gently made sure Owen didn’t fall over without Derek behind him. He started walking towards the door, and Owen turned and saw his hands clenching and unclenching slowly.

“Running away like a chicken, are ya?” Grant taunted Derek as he walked by the other couch towards the doors.

“No, Grant, I’m removing myself from a situation which is setting me off,” Derek said, exhaling hard as he continued for the door.

Grant pushed off the arm of the couch and quickly followed Derek. “Bawk bawk bawk!” he taunted and strutted like a chicken.

Derek reached the door and his hand on the handle, and Owen realized he should follow him rather than be left in here alone with Grant and Randal. He stood and started to follow but slowed when realized that Grant was between him and Derek. He watched as Grant put his hand on Derek’s shoulder to try to turn him around. Derek brushed his hand off easily, which only upset Grant more.“Turn around and face me like a man, if you even are one still,” he taunted.

Owen kept walking towards them slowly, though, hoping he could somehow stop the fight that he saw looming, but he had no idea how to go about it. Indira’s warning to not involve yourself in other people’s fights rung in his ears, but still, he kept moving closer. He realized he was reaching his hand out towards them, and he decided a strike would be worth it if he could stop Derek from getting into a fight.

As he approached, Derek turned around to face Grant and his eyes briefly flicked to Owen, and he flashed a pained smile at Owen. That’s when Grant threw the first punch, though, and Derek rolled back as if it were nothing. He’d told Owen a while back that the bar fights had given him some skill at taking a punch, and Owen was glad to see he hadn’t been falsely boasting.

“Got your attention now, don’t I?” Grant sneered.

“Don’t punch me,” Derek said, straining to sound calm, but still not raising his own fists, though Owen noticed they were balled now.

Owen finally found words. “Please stop, Grant,” he said quietly. “We want —”

Grant wheeled on Owen, who realized he’d gotten too close as Grant’s fist aimed next for Owen’s head. He didn’t know what to do and tried to throw his hands up, which did nothing to stop it. Grant’s fist connected solidly to his jaw and he found himself on the ground, ears ringing as he looked up and saw Grant turn back to Derek, whose ability to contain it had broken. “Oh, that’s what did it? Attacking your little boyfriend? Fine — bring it, arsehole!”

Derek breathed out slowly, then Owen watched as Derek’s anger seeped out in a smile. Unlike Derek’s earlier pained smile at Owen, though, this wasn’t a nice smile — it was like death was smiling. Like a great white shark had something wriggling and bleeding in its sights.

***

Melissa loved how Amelia played with her food before eating it, carefree and getting to be herself — not without trauma, but she knew who she was. Melissa wasn’t sure how such a little person could eat so much, but it made her smile seeing her interact with her aunties, who kept trying to slip her something else sugary. And Amelia absolutely would eat whatever her aunties gave her any time she or her wives didn’t intercept it ‘for later.’ The couple of times they had visited the Hall with her in tow, they wound up with enough sugar stashed in their bags to last the family several weeks.

Amelia, of course, as the bright, happy, kid she was, mostly treated it as a game — with her the winner no matter what!

As the main course wound down, the crowd got livelier again, and some people stood up to go visit friends before dessert came out. Melissa noticed as Autumn stood up from her table nearby and started to walk over with two other women in tow, all of them carrying their drinks with them. “Lissa, dear, so good to see you again,” Autumn said, smiling as she approached.

“Autumn, you came!” Melissa said brightly, standing to greet her. “Yes, good to see you. Have you gotten to meet Amelia yet?”

“No, not yet,” Autumn said, looking around Melissa to Amelia. “She’s adorable, Lissa.”

“She is, and also very busy it seems,” Melissa said, laughing as she glanced over at Amelia, who was filling time until ‘profit rolls’ by colouring in her latest book — filled with princesses and dragons. “Wait, could that be Summer I see behind you? I heard you were in town!”

“Hi, Melissa,” Summer said, waving weakly from behind Autumn. “Long time no see.”

Melissa opened her arms to offer a hug, to Summer’s confusion. “It’s been too long! I’m so glad to see you again, and in one piece,” she said as Summer accepted the hug. “And I hear you’ve had too much adventure the last few months,” she said quieter in Summer’s ear.

“No kidding — I haven’t been more than three meters from my taser since January,” Summer replied quietly. Melissa glanced at Summer’s purse; it looked big enough to conceal one. “But thankfully the adventures seem to be behind us.” She pulled away from the hug. “And speaking of ‘us’ — Persephone, this is Melissa; she was one of my dorm mates here. Melissa, this is Persephone, my, uh, friend. I’ve been helping her transition.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Persephone,” Melissa said, offering a hand, which Persephone took gently. So this was the girl that had gotten Stephanie all upset last August? She hardly seemed the type for the basement — too poised, too together. “Someday, ask me to tell you about what Summer did the morning I came out,” Melissa finished with a wink.

Summer nearly spat out her drink. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little quick on the draw,” she said, choking a bit.

“I’d not even been out ten minutes when you started hitting on me!” Melissa made sure to fill her voice with mirth at the memory, lest Persephone worry too much. In hindsight, it had been all so funnily predictable — and Tabby told Melissa later that it had helped Summer start to truly move forward. Not that she would tell Persephone that part of it.

Persephone laughed brightly. “That sounds like quite the story! I have to admit, you’re a bit different from how Summer described you —” she lowered her voice, “— less stuck-up!”

Ignoring the glances the other two were exchanging, which were awfully heated for a pair of ‘friends,’ Melissa laughed. “That was the old Melissa,” she said. “And in fairness, she was an aloof, stuck-up fool, but I got better.”

Melissa watched as Amelia walked over to Persephone. “Miss Purse… uh, Purse-phony?” she asked, tugging on her hand.

Persephone giggled. “Yes, sweetie?” Persephone said.

“Auntie Autumn said you’re like me? A trans girl?”

“I am!” Persephone said, and Melissa could hear her making the effort to push her voice as far forward as she could. “And you are simply adorable, if no one’s told you that in the last minute.”

“Thanks!” she said with a toothy grin. “I’m Amelia. Want to see my colouring book?”

Melissa noticed the brief glance between Persephone and Summer before she responded. “Sure!” Persephone told her with genuine enthusiasm.

Amelia reached up and grabbed her hand, dragging her the several feet back to their table and her colouring book.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Summer said, turning to watch Persephone and Amelia interact.

Melissa smiled distantly. “We just adopted her — goodness, has it only been six weeks? It feels like six months!”

“She’s absolutely precious,” Summer said. “And I saw you’re still with Abby? And that other woman — uh, Shahida, right?”

“Back with Abby, actually. I… I got a little lost after I left the Hall,” Melissa said, looking a bit sheepish. “Broke up with her for a while because I got in my head about whether I would’ve loved her if she hadn’t been my sponsor.”

Summer looked surprised at that; she really had been out of the loop if she hadn’t heard any of this from Tabby. “It was Shahida who pulled me out of it,” Melissa put on a fond smile as she looked at her wives, chatting away happily. “Partly by falling in love with Abby herself so easily, because there had to be more to my feelings than just trauma bonding, if Shy saw something in her too. And partly by pointing out that a Melissa who didn’t love Abby would be a different person from me, and trying to be her was just another way of denying myself.”

Summer closed her eyes and nodded. She looked lost for a moment, and Melissa reached out and gently took her hand. “Are you okay, Summer?” she asked quietly.

Summer laughed. “Fine. Just… a little jealous, I guess. Same as always.”

“Jealous?” Melissa asked, her turn for surprise.

Summer frowned at her. “You mean, you didn’t know?”

Melissa shook her head no — even if she’d come to realize her intake Sisters didn’t hate her anymore, it was still surprising to hear Summer say she was jealous of her.

“Melissa, all through the programme, I was so jealous of you. Of how quickly you progressed, and how much praise you got for it. Of all your little privileges and perks. Of —“ Summer said, pausing, hesitating. Melissa gave her hand a little rub again to say it was okay. “Of the woman you loved actually loving you back. And now here we are, a decade later, totally different circumstances, and I’m stillfinding myself jealous of you. Of your family.” She laughed bitterly. “I guess some things never change.”

“Summer…” Melissa said softly, squeezing Summer’s hand. “I… that’s not how it felt for me. I made so many mistakes, took so many shortcuts to leave as quick as I could… I was really only half-finished when I left. And some of those shortcuts…” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to wait for the process you did, so I took a stupid cis NPH. And now I have a trans daughter who doesn’t know her own mum is trans.”

“Oh,” Summer said quietly, squeezing Melissa’s hand back. “You can’t tell her?”

Melissa laughed. “I’d love to, and maybe when she’s older,” she said, “but right now, she can’t really keep a secret. But you wouldn’t have that problem. You did the process properly, figured out who you are and what you want, and now you get to live it. And I can’t help but be jealous of you for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Summer said, letting her hand go. “I… guess I might feel that way too in your shoes.”

”You have a sword?!” Melissa heard Amelia shout, which surprised Melissa, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“She has a sword?” Melissa asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Persephone is a fencer,” Summer said, giggling. “Said she was about average for her uni team… but I looked it up and her team was very good.”

“I see,” Melissa said. “That makes her probably the coolest girl Amelia has ever met. She’ll be talking about her for days. Probably want to try lessons or something.“

Summer smiled fondly towards Persephone. “She’s not wrong,” she said. They stood there in silence for a bit; Summer had a smile on her face that she’d never seen her direct at a friend, not even when she’d been close enough with Autumn for them to pick matching names.

“You know,” Melissa said nervously. “There are sisters who get along nicely their whole lives, but there are also sisters who are terrible rivals as children, but then they grow up, and learn to see through each other’s eyes. Maybe… maybe that could be us?”

Summer smiled. “I’d like that,” she said, and this time Summer offered a hug and Melissa eagerly accepted it.

They parted when Summer’s purse started singing “Boys only want love if it’s torture / Don’t say I didn’t, say I didn’t warn ya…” Melissa giggled as Summer pulled out her phone. “See? We even have the same taste in ringtones!”

But Summer’s phone wasn’t the only one to get the message; Melissa heard a number of devices beeping and vibrating at once. And off to one side, she noticed that Aunt Bea was standing to start her speech — covering, most likely.

She clinked on her glass with a spoon. “Good afternoon, everyone!” she said cheerfully, projecting to fill the large, noisy hall. “I’m so grateful you could all come for Easter lunch…”

“I should collect Persephone,” Summer said. “But let’s talk again soon.”

“Absolutely!” Melissa said, heading back to the table as well to sit with her wives. The likelihood that Aunt Bea would direct attention their way was non-zero with Amelia here.

“— the young people who made it outdid themselves,” Aunt Bea continued, “and it was truly excellent. And of course, I’d like to thank all our guests for coming, we are so honored you could join us. I also want to make a special welcome to our youngest guest, Amelia, and say to Abby, Melissa, and Shahida, that your daughter is truly adorable. Seeing you three care for her gives me so much hope for the future.”

“Thank you, Auntie Beezus!” Amelia said loudly, and breaking out in a fit of giggles. Beatrice had Maria to thank for that particular nickname — something about some American children’s book.

Melissa laughed brightly with her daughter. “Yes, thank you, Auntie Beezus — we’re grateful for the opportunity, and without you and Ashley it wouldn’t have happened. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”

“You’re very welcome! Love you, Lissa,” Ashley called brightly across the room and blew a kiss towards their table.

“Yes, thank you, Ashley,” Aunt Bea said with a smile. “Anyway, please enjoy the dessert that some of our girls will be bringing out post-haste, and have a lovely afternoon, everyone.”

As Aunt Bea started to sit down, Melissa realized someone she didn’t recognize in rather plain clothing was walking hurriedly across the room towards Aunt Bea’s table in the middle of the room. She wondered who it was briefly, but then the second-years started delivering the baskets of profiteroles and quickly conversation returned to normal, albeit minus a few of the women. Melissa glanced in the direction of Autumn’s table, and realized neither Persephone norSummer were there. Wherever they were, they were missing out on an excellent dessert.

***

Pamela watched in mild horror as the events unfolded on the monitors. It wouldn’t do to let Grant get too far along in his feeble attempt at escape, though it looked like Derek was more than holding his own. But his smile worried her, and Grant was definitely fading fast. Every second had risks for all the boys.

It wasn’t long, though, before sponsors started filing into the security office from upstairs in their finery. Maria in her deep green dress, Edy in a complementary peach number, Monica in her lovely violet flowery dress, and Tabby in a flowing yellow polka dot dress, and she heard more coming behind them. Pamela didn’t have to instruct the four who’d already arrived to start registering tasers, so she focused on more relevant info. “Grant’s in the common room, he’s started an altercation with Derek —” she glanced first at the monitors then in Edy’s direction, “— and Owen, who’s down for the count it looks like.”

Edy shot her a look that said, We’ll talk later, and Pamela knew she would give her a royal chewing-out for Owen getting hurt in this scheme. Unfortunately, what’s done was done — she’d take her lumps for it like the big girl she was. Pamela was surprised when she saw Summer appear at the back of the pack with her taser already out and ready, while the others were still fumbling with registering theirs — they really needed to streamline the process more still. “See you all down there,” Summer called, already turning towards the stairs.

“Common room! Go through the dining room!” Pamela called loudly after Summer as she headed towards the stairs down. Grant would think he’d won the lottery when Summer arrived in the room alone, but Pamela had seen the clip from January — an armed Summer alone in a room with a handful of boys would be very much an “I’m not locked in here with you” situation.

***

Grant looked briefly at the crumpled form of Owen with contempt, but quickly had to dodge a punch from Derek. Well, he’d wanted Derek’s attention, and he had it now — creepy fucking smile and all. Grant had taken some boxing instruction at home as part of one of his grandmother’s contests, and sort of knew how to move his feet and body. Sure, Derek had five inches of height on him, and at least three and a half stone, but Grant had speed.

It wasn’t long before he was already at his limits of endurance and speed, though, and was wondering whether this was going to work at all. Derek had landed a few blows, not terribly hard — certainly not as hard as Grant would’ve expected him to be capable of. Maybe the atrophy of the sponsors’ cocktail of estradiol and an orchi had hit him harder than he thought — or perhaps he was pulling his punches for some reason. But Grant’s attempts to land blows were proving even more fruitless than Derek’s — he’d only managed to connect a couple of times, and it was like punching fucking granite and made him wish for gloves.

It wasn’t all that long before he heard the door open, and he glanced to see a sponsor he didn’t recognize come in wearing a low-cut purple dress. Hah, success — just one sponsor fresh from her lunch! Now to lull her in to thinking Derek instigated things, Grant thought, a smirk sneaking on to his face, and then separate her from her taser. Grant quickly threw his hands up, dodging another punch from Derek. “He started it!” he said urgently, as he dodged yet another punch. “Who are you? Why haven’t you tased him already?”

“I’m the bitch with the taser,” she said coldly. “You two have three seconds to separate, place your hands behind your head, and kneel. One!”

Grant quickly placed his hands behind his head and started to kneel.

“Two—” she continued, waiting another beat. Grant was already down on his knees, hands firmly behind his head, while Derek looked almost reluctant to comply; he had only made it down to one knee and his hands weren’t quite behind his head. “Three!”

Grant was genuinely surprised when Derek got hit by the probes, but didn’t fall as they pulsed. Grant had been tased early on; he didn’t know how Derek could be so still. He shifted slightly, trying to see the sponsor better, wondering if she was close enough for him to grab her taser and toss it, and its remaining charge, away from her.

“Don’t move, blondie!” she said sharply. “Don’t make me use the other shot!” Shit, he’d hoped she wouldn’t be that picky. Derek was still clearly in pain from the taser but had made it down on to both knees, and behind him Grant could see shadows move across the glass doors. Shit, it’s all over, he thought. Well, if I can’t have my escape, I’ll get one final blow in on Derek just for putting those ideas in Carl’s head.

He exploded from his kneeling position, aiming for Derek’s solar plexus, hitting it with all he had. An illegal hit in Marquess of Queensbury for certain as his opponent was already kneeling in surrender, but growing up in his family, results had mattered the most, and a dirty win was still a win.

He felt the taser probes hit him in the side right as he connected with Derek, who definitely felt that hit. Grant’s body convulsed hard, and he quickly crumped to the ground, half on to Derek’s kneeling form, his head rolling off Derek’s lap onto the concrete floor.

Grant saw as Derek moved one of his hands down from behind his head towards Owen’s still crumpled form. His shark-like smile had been replaced by pain. Job well done, he thought.

“Stay down,” he heard the bitch with the taser behind him say as if he could do anything else. She was finally out of charges — and finally vulnerable — but Owen was down for the count, and he knew Randal was a coward at heart. And then the other sponsors came pouring in and even that didn’t matter anymore. It wasn’t long before he felt strong arms and hands pulling his hands back behind him and shackling him. He tried to resist, but he was no match for the soldier’s strength, who pulled him quickly upright and started shoving him towards the cells.

***

Trev walked quickly up the front steps of Dorley, and smiled as they stepped into the kitchen. They didn’t recognize the girls present, but they looked like second years and their sponsors loading up baskets of profiteroles. They pulled out a badge that indicated they had permission to be here, and the oldest sponsor in the room nodded assent — even though Trev knew the badge must’ve been canceled back in January after Jessica outed them. Step one down — get inside without getting tased immediately, Trev thought. Now to survive approaching Bea.

It had been a few long, cold, lonely months — first that disaster in Edinburgh, then Jessica unwittingly walking in and saying what they’d told her directly to Dorley fucking Hall. Trev suspected — but since their access had been revoked, couldn’t be sure — that she had just come and bounced off this absurd place, still unaware of the fate of her daughter.

Trev paused briefly at the doors into the dining room, realizing the meal was already almost over, and they watched briefly as Bea finished her usual after-meal speech. The room seemed emptier than they expected it to be — the big holiday meals tended to be quite well attended — but their timing couldn’t have been better. All the eyes that had been on Beatrice had quickly gone back to their conversations with friends, leaving them free to dart in to get Bea’s attention.

Trev took a quick deep breath and stepped quickly into the room, swiftly closing the distance to the big table in the middle. Bea and Valérie were already back to chatting with a couple of the senior sponsors and older graduates, but their angle of approach could’ve been better. Valérie noticed them out of the corner of her eye when they were only halfway across the room, and immediately turned to shoot a grin at them. “Trev! Dear,” Val said brightly, quickly standing and holding out her hand. “So good to see you again! How are you doing of late?”

“I’ve been far worse, Valérie,” they said, trying their best with pronunciation. It was still sometimes difficult after all these years, and it had been a bit since. They gently took her hand and bowed slightly. “And I’m doing much better now that I’m back here among you all wonderful people.”

“And just where have you been?” Bea asked evenly but smiling warmly and standing to take Trev’s hand after Valérie released it.

“It’s a long story, Bea,” they said. “Could we talk in private, briefly?”

Bea narrowed her eyes minimally, but calmly gestured towards the set of doors to the back rooms. “Of course, Trev. Please excuse us everyone, I’ll be back shortly,” she said warmly and gestured for Val to stay. “Please continue enjoying the meal and conversation.”

Bea strode purposefully out of the dining hall, and Trev followed her back through the maze of rooms behind the dining hall to the main ground floor office, and they heard her lock the door after they entered. “Don’t want me running off, eh?” Trev asked.

“You did give us quite a merry chase,” Bea said, frowning, sitting down behind the desk. Trev was a bit surprised when she pulled a taser from a desk drawer and waved it in Trev’s direction. “I won’t need this, will I?” She waited until they shook their head no, then set it on the desk. “But going and telling Jessica? Really, Trev? You put everyone at risk, including yourself! And your timing today was absolutely dreadful.”

“I don’t know, it seemed to work out for my purpose,” Trev said with a slight grin. “I noticed the basement doors shutting as you finished your speech — trouble amongst the not-quite-girls?”

“Oh, some nonsense escape attempt. The girls are handling it fine on their own, they don’t need me involved in it. Today’s just already been a lot of things all at once — and there’s still a fair number of undisclosed people out there.”

“For whatever little it’s worth, I almost didn’t tell Jessica,” Trev said, finally sitting heavily in a chair opposite her.

“You texted her a couple of dozen times, Trev,” Beatrice said, frowning. “And hacked her account, and that’s before you went to meet her in person to tell her pretty much the truth about her daughter! What were you thinking?”

“When I figured it out, I just kind of reacted, sent her that first text on autopilot,” Trev said slowly. “After that, it became a mission in my mind — a thing I had to see through to the end. I almost didn’t follow through with the meet; I got there late, and it would’ve been easy enough to walk away. But then I saw her and I couldn’t back out — she had been kind to me and that was quite rare, I saw the pained expression she wore on her face. So in I went, and I told her. I know she’s not perfect, but I could see how much pain she was in, and how much she cares about her kid, regardless of her gender. So there. I told her.”

Bea sighed. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have committed a lot of opsec violations searching for Val,” she said, frowning. “But how did you even know that Sophia was her daughter? You shouldn’t have had access to any of that information! And before you speak, we already found your Peckinville coordinator friend. He’s been quietly shuffled somewhere we can keep an eye on him without giving him access to anything remotely important.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I was seeing one of the coordinators,” Trev said, nodding. “One night he mentioned that an urgent last-minute request for security for a pickup had been requested, but that it was ultra-low risk. And I know that’s the category you use for backup when picking up the trans girls. He, of course, didn’t know the name of the target, and I didn’t ask, but he mentioned that it was near Sheffield.”

“So how did you connect it to a one-time acquaintance from years ago?” Bea asked.

“Well… someone in the disclosed friends of the hall channel on Consensus posted a picture of her at the Christmas Eve party,” Trev said. “I happened to glance at the right moment as she quickly deleted it. And well, she’s the spitting image of her mum, and people who were kind to me were rare. So I dug a bit more and confirmed it on my own through relatively public info.”

“That’s it?” Bea said. “Pillow talk, a drunkenly mis-sent photo in the wrong channel, and a Sophia-shaped hole in the world?”

“That’s it, Bea, honest,” Trev said quietly. “There’s no cancer here. Just a series of mistakes — all of them mine.”

“Why didn’t you come in sooner?” Bea asked, clearly annoyed. “Hell, if you’d told us before you contacted Jessica the first time that you had this connection, we could’ve even worked together to make this properly cathartic for her. Instead of sending her on a wild goose chase and having to bounce her off the hall on short notice with zero planning.”

“I didn’t tell you because I know what Elle can be like, Bea,” Trev said, frowning. “I know that you try to help families, but she bears a bit of a grudge to the bad families of the trans girls. Would it have wound up significantly different? Is she still looking for her daughter?”

“Not that we know of,” Bea said. “According to Donna, she’s been moving forward actually, and the taps on her computer and phone show no signs of further interest in Almsworth or Dorley. But even after you contacted her, after she walked in and straight up told us it was you? Why did you run? ”

“I was terrified, Bea! Especially with that marquess out there making waves,” Trev said. “I couldn’t risk him following me here or to Summer and Persephone, so I hid until I was positive I’d lost them completely.”

“But now you can? On Easter?” Bea asked. “There’s a lot of people who aren’t disclosed here today, and that’s risky enough without you showing up and causing a ruckus.”

“I had to make sure you wouldn’t tase me before I had a chance to explain,” Trev said, grinning. “Seems to have worked, at least?”

Beatrice Quinn laughed. “Okay, well, not like Val would let me do anything to you, anyway,” she said, grinning. “I’ll figure out how to smooth things over with Elle, okay?” Bea’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen, and her smile turned to a frown. “Apologies, Trev, I’d love to hear more about it now, and I need to hear all of it later. But apparently there is yet another fire today, though, and this one unfortunately requires my attention.”

“It never rains, but it pours,” Trev said, grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of sight for the rest of lunch. I caught a glimpse of Persephone’s hair when I first got here, and I don’t think it would be good for me to run into them yet. Maybe later, when things have calmed down and the silverware is somewhere not so handy.”

“Prudent,” Bea said, standing. “I’d have you wait in here, but to say my trust in you is high right now would be a lie. Hrm. Perhaps you can cool off in the gym?”

“That sounds reasonable,” Trev said and stood as Bea lead the way. When she had let them into the gym and closed and locked the door behind her, Trev let out a sigh. It could’ve gone so much worse, and Trev was fairly sure they could bypass these locks if something arose between now and whenever Bea or whoever came back. They walked over to the door out of curiosity and pressed their index to it, and were surprised to hear the lock buzz. They quickly relocked it and looked sheepishly at the camera in the cornice. Trent went over and sat down on one of the stationary recumbent bikes and propped their feet up to wait.

Only five minutes later, they heard a commotion as someone ran by the room trying every door handle including the gym. Trev sighed and stood and went over and unlocked the door and peeked out to see some girl in a poofy dress running down, glancing at doorways as she went, and then they saw Ashley quickly following her.

“Oh! Trev, you’re back,” Ashley called. “I want to hear all your adventures! But I’ve got something to deal with, first.”

“Yeah, no worries, we’ll talk later,” Trev said and waved as Ashley disappeared back towards the conservatory. Trev closed the door and relocked it, sitting down to wait for someone to come get them.

***

The fight wasn’t what Owen had expected — with Grant knocked out in a single blow. Instead, they were dodging and weaving as each tried to hit the other. Derek did land some punches, and Grant landed a couple hits, but Derek was dodging Grant better than Grant was dodging him. It wasn’t long before Grant was looking tired and winded, while Derek still had that same predatory smile on his face.

And then a sponsor Owen didn’t recognize in a lavender dress burst in through the doors from the dining room. He couldn’t hear what the sponsor appeared to be shouting at the two of them, there was just ringing in his ears. Grant pointed at Derek, and said something, then put his hands up, only for more unheard orders from the sponsor. And then they both started to kneel, albeit Derek was moving slower. He watched in shock as the sponsor fired her taser at Derek! No! Grant was the one who should be tased! He wanted to scream, but the words stuck in his throat.

And then that shit Grant lunged at Derek, hitting him hard in the gut — and caught the second charge of the sponsor’s taser. Owen was amazed that Derek was still upright at this point, and watched as he settled down on to both knees while Derek rolled off him on to the floor, twitching in pain. Derek reached a hand out towards Owen, and he reached towards Derek in response — too far to connect. And then all the doors burst open and sponsors came in from every direction.

He watched helpless as the sponsor disconnected the taser wires, and the newly arrived sponsors started cuffing and disentangling Derek and Grant. And then the doors from the hall opened again and in came the soldiers, and he saw their real guns on their hips and heavy-duty tasers in hand. They gruffly pulled Derek and Grant to their feet and quickly marched them out of the room towards the cells.

Owen realized Edy had kneeled beside him at some point during all this and was trying to talk to him, but his ears just continued to ring. He tapped them and shook his head. Edy nodded and held out her hand to help him stand, and he did so slowly. He was dizzy, and she put her other arm under him from behind and helped him walk over to one of the annoying metal tables.

He sat there for a bit, still not terribly aware of what was going on, but the ringing was slowly going away, and he realized Edy wasn’t next to him suddenly. “I’m so sorry, Edy,” Owen said, looking around and regretting moving his head. She was immediately back and sitting next to him, handing him a water bottle, which he happily took a drink from. She next handed him what he recognized as pain meds, and he swallowed those quickly, hoping they would help some.

“You’ve done nothing to apologize for,” Edy said, clearly and a bit loudly. “You just wanted them to not fight, and I think that’s admirable.”

“But they did fight!” Owen said, sounding distraught. “What’s going to happen to Derek?”

“Sent to the wood chipper, same as Grant,” Randal sneered from somewhere behind Owen. He started to try to turn, but his head said no, and he kept facing the metal table.

Owen knew Randal was trying to goad him, but all that came were tears. “That’s enough out of you, Mr Stevenson,” Edy said sternly. Owen heard a thump behind him and hoped Maria or someone hit him on the head with the butt of a taser.

“Derek’s not going to be fed to the wood chipper,” Edy said, rubbing Owen’s back. “But what happens to him is up to him, okay?”

Owen nodded. “He was smiling,” he said quietly.

“Who?” Edy asked.

“Derek, like he was happy or something for the first time in a long time,” Owen frowned. “I don’t want him to wash out, he only did all that because Grant hit me, he was in control until I was on the ground.”

“Why don’t we go back to your room, okay?” Edy said quietly and offering a hand to help him up.

“I want to visit Derek,” Owen said as he stood with Edy’s help. “Can I?”

“Monica’s with him right now, but we will let you visit later when you’re both up to it, okay?” Edy said, smiling at him, helping him walk. He noticed, out of the corner of his eye, the sponsor who tased Derek and Grant was slumped at one of the other tables looking at her taser.

“Sure, okay,” Owen said and let Edy guide him out of the dining room. Maria was nudging Randal to get up; Owen glared at him as they passed. He hadn’t done anything to help, just stood by and let it all go to shit. Fuck Grant, and fuck Randal, and where the fuck had Carl been during all this?

As they turned the corner into the bedroom corridor, he saw Tabby come out of Grant’s room, which was surprising, and with Carl behind her, which was even more surprising. Carl’s eyes were puffy and red, the trails of his tears quite visible. They walked over to Carl’s door and went inside quickly, not even noticing Owen and Edy. When they got to his door, Edy unlocked it quickly, still helping to support him. She paused to close the door as they entered, then helped him sit down onto the bed, sitting right beside him as she did so, arm around him the entire time.

“I want to start by saying how proud I am of you,” Edy said quietly. “Today’s been stressful, and you’re doing very well.”

“Why… why did Grant do that?” Owen asked. “Why did Derek?”

“Well,” Edy said slowly. “Grant’s hurting a lot, and sometimes people who are in pain lash out when cornered. And Derek was defending you; misguided or not, that’s pretty good.”

“But I didn’t do anything to him… I just wanted him to leave us alone.”

“And you didn’t do anything to him, but that doesn’t matter in situations like this,” Edy said, putting an arm around his shoulder. “We cornered him, but you were close at hand. And… he was trying to escape. He wanted to get one of us alone and force us to unlock doors but overshot that mark by miles.”

“So it wasn’t the hormones?” Owen asked quietly. He knew it sounded stupid even as he said it, but hormones were made by big pharma. No matter how many science books he read, it still bothered him how they operated, and how they kept raising prices on things that had existed for a century.

“No,” Edy said, squeezing the shoulder. “It wasn’t the hormones. He’s just angry for reasons that aren’t mine to discuss.”

“Okay,” Owen said quietly. “When can I talk to Derek?”

“Later,” Edy said, smiling and rubbing his shoulder. There was a knock at the door and Edy looked at Owen and he nodded. “Yes, who is it?” Edy called.

“It’s Rabia. I’ve come to make sure Owen’s okay,” she called through the door.

“Sure, just a moment,” Edy said and stood and went over and unlocked the door and let Rabia in before sitting back next to Owen. “Handy that you were here today.”

“Yeah, well,” Rabia said. “Wouldn’t have been my choice of how to spend Easter, but Bella insisted we come. Owen, I’m going to give you a brief concussion test, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Owen said slowly, feeling a bit loopy. “Why not, you’ve seen a lot more of me than my head.”

“Hrm,” Rabia said and started having him do various things, checking his eyes. “You’ve definitely got a mild concussion, I’m afraid, Owen. You should be fine long term, but Edy knows the protocol, and you will follow her instructions about it to the letter. Do you understand?”

Owen nodded. “I understand and agree,” he said by rote. “How’s Derek?”

“I’ve not seen Mr Connors or Mr Wilson yet,” Rabia said, putting things back in her bag. “If Edy and Monica are okay with it, though, I can pass along to Derek that you’re okay, but you’re worried about him.”

Edy smiled at Owen from beside him. “I’m fine with it as long as Monica is okay with it.”

“Yeah, thanks Rabia,” Owen said. “I would appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome,” Rabia said, smiling and opening the door into the hall. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Owen said quietly as she stepped out into the hall.

Edy smiled. “So, shall we watch some TV quietly in the dark while I wait to hear from Monica that it’s okay for you to visit Derek?”

“Yeah, sure Edy,” Owen said, smiling. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Edy said and pulled her phone out and got a video playing on Owen’s computer, and dimmed the lights a bit more. Her phone beeped, and she glanced at the notification briefly before muting it and working to make it more comfortable for Owen and her on the bed. Whatever else had happened wasn’t her problem right now.

***

Melissa was surprised when there was suddenly another wave of beeping and more people moved towards the stairs down, including, surprisingly, Indira. Two fires in the basement in the span of twenty minutes on Easter was worrying. What the boys could even do after the first big wave of sponsors that would cause even more to go down, she couldn’t guess. And Aunt Bea had left with the mystery guest and had yet to return, leaving senior leadership a bit thin in the hall.

She glanced again towards Autumn’s table. Summer and Persephone were still not back from the bathrooms or wherever — probably off making out, if she’d read the vibe between them right. The room was noticeably emptied now — too noticeable, really. Those left behind were definitely talking about whatever had drawn everyone away.

She threw a look at Abby who nodded, and quickly stood and clinked on her glass with a knife. “Apologies, everyone, some of our residents had to go deal with a minor emergency, nothing you need to worry about. Please enjoy some extra dessert,” she said and gestured towards the second years table, and they and their sponsors got the hint and headed off to the kitchen to retrieve the baskets of profiteroles for another serving for the remainder.

Melissa turned her focus back towards her table, and the conversation quickly returned to other topics as the second-years served dessert. “So, Rach,” Shahida said. “You were talking about this support group you run up in Sheffield? Sounds like a good thing.”

“Oh! Yes! I was going to tell you about Jessica,” Rachel said, grinning. “Turns out she learned of us from Donna, of all people! She’d apparently been down in Almsworth looking for her trans daughter she lost touch with and somehow stumbled into Dorley Hall, of all places — said she’d met someone who lived here and got curious.”

“Oh, wow,” Shahida said in surprise. “It really is a small world sometimes.”

Melissa noticed beyond Rachel that Sophia had stood and started towards their table, Amelia would be delighted to see her again so soon — maybe this time she’d stop and play with her for a bit, Amelia would love that. However, as she got closer, Melissa got a good look at her expression. It wasn’t the face of someone coming to colour princesses with Amelia.

***

Derek didn’t know who the sponsor was — and he was frankly annoyed initially, he hadn’t had a good fight in ages. He was reluctantly complying — albeit slowly — he hadn’t realized how out of shape he’d gotten in here. When she tased him, it hurt, but he didn’t keel over from it, and he honestly wasn’t angry at her for it, he hadn’t complied as fast as she ordered, and he had been fighting. He wouldn’t have been able to fight with it sending shocks through him, but he wasn’t going to crumple from it. Then Grant lunged at him and the little prick got the tasing he deserved, and he crumpled to the ground like the pathetic worm he was.

Grant’s punch had managed to hit its mark, though, and he lowered himself the rest of the way to his knees slowly. He turned to look at Owen and reached out a hand briefly, and was glad to see Owen capable of reaching towards him at least. He wished he could’ve touched him, to let him know he would be okay. But then the other doors all burst open, and Monica arrived in a tsunami of sponsors.

He allowed her to shackle his hands behind his back without struggle, before one of the soldiers gruffly pulled him up and pushed him down the hallway towards the cells. Between the taser zapping for that long and Grant’s punch, he was quite sore, and he didn’t really intend to resist, but the soldier kept shoving him, and he kept slowing down only to be shoved again. It was a good thing the cell wasn’t any farther than it was because he didn’t know how much more he could take of it.

Derek turned to sit down on the bed, and was surprised to see Monica had entered the cell with him. He looked down at the floor, ashamed that he’d let himself be drawn into a fight. He was surprised when he heard the cycle and looked up minutely as she stepped closer to him before quickly dropping his head again. Derek had expected her to simply lecture him from the other side of the glass. He didn’t have to wonder long as to what she was up to, because to his surprise, he felt her weight sit down on the bed right next to him. She was close enough that he could see her knees poking out from beneath her light purple dress.

“So, Derek, what the fuck was that?” Monica said after she’d shuffled to straighten her dress out a bit better.

“I don’t know, Monica,” Derek said quietly, turning his head away from her. “And I wish you wouldn’t sit so close — or even be in here with me. You saw what I did.”

“Am I in danger, Derek?” Monica asked, concern filling her voice. “Are you going to fight me?”

“No,” Derek said sharply, turning his head back towards her briefly before looking away again. “No, Monica, please, I don’t want to be this person anymore. I don’t want to be the person who picks fights, the person who looks forward to fights. I was trying to leave the room—”

“You were at the door, but you stopped for some reason,” Monica interrupted him. “We both know Grant couldn’t have really stopped you at that point. You could’ve just stepped into the hallway and walked to your room.”

“I… I don’t know why I stopped,” Derek said quietly. “Or at least… I… maybe some part of me wanted a fight. I’ve been so angry for so long and I have been trying, and those books have been helping — six months ago I would’ve laid into Grant as soon as he touched me the first time.”

“That’s good, and I know that took a great deal of restraint,” Monica said calmly. “I’m proud you resisted as long as you did.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Derek said quietly, centering his head, so he could see a small part of her again — to feel her presence. “Such a stupid thing to have to make progress at, and despite that progress, I still failed. When I turned around, and I saw Owen I was just about ready to burst, but seeing him I was going to turn back around and head to my room. But then Grant wheeled on Owen and I just couldn’t let that go,” Derek said. “I had to protect him! Owen’s not a fighter.”

“I saw you smiling on the cameras,” Monica said. “Did a part of you enjoy it?”

Derek nodded slowly. “I hadn’t felt like that even in fights in a long time,” he said slowly. “Usually… usually I just fight with whoever’s handy, for no good reason: they looked at me funny, they spilled beer on me, they were being too noisy. So many petty reasons. Just this once, it felt good.”

“Vengeance isn’t a great motivation, either. Do you remember what we said about involving yourself in other people’s fights?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” Derek said quietly. “Although Grant… sorry. I’m in the cell, aren’t I? I take it this is a strike.”

“Yes, it is,” Monica said, nodding. “But that’s not what I was really getting at. You didn’t have to fight him, and Owen would’ve likely been fine if you’d just gone to your room in the first place — he was angry, but you were his focus, and Owen was just his way of getting your attention.”

Derek nodded, and looked up at her finally. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I fucked up, Monica, I’m sorry.”

“I want to switch topics,” Monica said, holding his attention. “Earlier you said something I would like to go back to.”

“What?” Derek said, looking confused. “I’m sorry if I said —“

Monica held up a finger, silencing him, and put on a faint smile. “It’s not something you need to apologize for. You said you didn’t want to be that person anymore. You can, you know, just be someone else.”

“Is this about, uh, names?”

“A bit,” Monica said, smiling. “I know you told Owen and the others you’ve been thinking about names. Would you be willing to talk about that with me some? No pressure if not — you don’t need a name yet, and there won’t be any reprisal for not talking about it right now.”

“Thanks,” Derek said quietly, hesitating briefly. “But uh, yeah, I can talk about it some, I guess.” Monica simply smiled brightly at him and waited for him to continue. “I uh, I thought of a few different names this morning, I haven’t decided yet on any one of them, though. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” Monica said. “I’ve been through a few names myself, no need to have decided on anything yet.”

Derek hesitated again; supposedly Monica had been through all this herself, and he mostly believed her at this point, strange as it sounded, but that didn’t mean this was easy for him. “Dorothy,” Derek whispered after hesitating. “It was my grandmother’s name, she was so kind and caring, but also strong. I… I wanted to be like her when I was younger — well, a guy version of her, I guess. She’s uh, gone now, been gone since I was a little kid, and I didn’t turn out anything remotely like her.”

“There’s still time,” Monica said warmly. “You’re getting a chance to be someone new, someone better. That’s a wonderful name, and I love your reason for wanting it, but one of the stipulations for most of our graduates is no contact with their family after they graduate. We have rules to reduce the risk of that.”

Derek nodded slowly. “I understand,” he said, looking at the ground. “And I don’t really have much contact with my family anymore — they didn’t want a drunken fighter hanging around, and I can’t blame them. If grandmother was still around, I might want to see her, to tell her I’m being better.”

“And in some cases we do allow that kind of contact, if we think it would help all involved,” Monica said warmly. “You said you had other ideas?”

“Well, just one really, and I haven’t decided if that’s it yet,” Derek said quietly. “I don’t know how Sophia or Nerys could just latch onto a name like that.”

Monica’s phone beeped, and she pulled it out of her pocket and ceremoniously set it to silent and stuffed it back in her pocket. “I want you to always know that Sophia and Nerys are not a measuring stick to compare yourself to. The only person that matters to your progress is you, Derek. Where do you want to be? Who do you want to be?”

“I uh, Madelyn, was the other name that came to mind,” Derek said quietly. “She isn’t anyone I knew, not a relative or friend or anything, just, I maybe like it.”

“Madelyn would be a wonderful name for you, Madelyn,” Monica said, winking.

“I uh, I guess you can call me that, in here at least,” Derek said slowly. “Until I think of something I like better.” He felt his cheeks blush — why did that cause him to blush?

“Well, Madelyn, shifting topics again,” Monica said without a trace of malice in her use of his possible new name. “You know that Owen’s worried about you, right? I think you scared him a bit.”

“Yeah,” Derek said quietly. “I bet I did. I scared me. How long will I be in here?”

“Oh, I doubt too long,” Monica said. “You’re already cooperating with discussion about what happened, and I might let Owen visit you later; I’m sure he’ll ask Edy if he can.”

“Yeah. I want to apologize to him. To tell him that’s not me anymore,” Derek said quietly. “Tell him… tell him I’m trying to be better.”

Monica smiled warmly. “And you are making progress at it. Progress is not always linear or even; just because you had a setback today doesn’t mean you haven’t made progress. There’s another thing we’ve not talked about since we initially discussed it: Why do you want people to be angry at you? Have you given that any more thought?”

“I —” Derek started, but there was a sudden noise as the curtain motors turned on, starting them closing. “What’s going on?” Derek asked, surprise and worry in his voice.

“Honestly? I don’t fucking know, Madelyn, but I’m going to find out, okay?” Monica said, frowning. “I’ll be back later with dinner, okay? And we’ll talk more then.”

“Sure Monica, thanks,” Derek said smiling as she stood and headed towards the door, the curtains still closing. When she was gone, he picked up the tablet from the floor and laid back on the cot to watch a movie on it. About ten minutes in, he heard numerous feet go by, loudly, slowly. Then again but quicker in the other direction. Then nothing for quite a while. Whatever’s happening is strange, even for this incredibly strange place, Derek thought to himself and restarted the movie.

As he watched, his mind continued to cycle. Madelyn? Marylin? Maddison? Such a weird thing to be thinking about. About being someone else. About what her name would be.

***

Pamela leaned against the wall opposite Grant’s cell, watching him as he lay on the bed where the soldiers deposited him. After watching Summer make quick work of Grant and Derek, she’d asked Charlie to alert the soldiers and triple checked her taser as she headed for the stairs. She didn’t bother going to the common room; instead, she went to the cell block to watch the soldiers drag Grant in and place him in the cell. He wasn’t unconscious — he was moving a bit — but he was definitely out of it.

As soon as he was on the bed, she’d stepped inside and left a tray with a water bottle and pain meds on it before stepping back out and locking the door. Eventually, she saw him stir and sit up, slowly rubbing his head. She pushed off the wall and stepped closer to the glass. “So, you’re finally coming around?” Pamela asked coldly.

“Yeah, what of it?” Grant asked, rubbing his head. “What did you lot do to me now? Drag me down some stairs?”

“Hardly. You hit your head on the ground after you got tased for fighting with Derek,” Pamela said coldly. “You didn’t even hit as hard as you hit Owen; Rabia will be by in a bit to give you a once-over, make sure you didn’t concuss your thick skull. You want to tell me what this was all about?”

“Screw you,” Grant said, snarling but cutting it off and rubbing his skull. “Could I at least get some painkillers or something?”

“On the tray,” Pamela said, pointing and rolling her eyes. She watched as he slowly got up and walked over to it, picked up the bottle, dumped the pills into his mouth before swallowing them. “I’ll ask again, Grant. What was today about?”

“You lot kidnapped us, took our balls, pumped us full of estrogen and then expect me to cooperate?” Grant said as he sat back down on the cot. “It was about escaping and bringing a world of pain down on you.”

“Yes,” Pamela said. “Either cooperate or wash out, those have always been your choices.”

“Are you going to wash me out for this today?” Grant asked. The fool probably thought if he didn’t wash out for this today, that he wouldn’t wash out ever. “Why would you even bother ranting at me if you were?”

“Not today, no, but that will quickly change if you don’t start cooperating,” she said evenly. “And I’m going to ask again: What was today really about?”

“Jesus,” Grant spat. “You’ve got such a one-track mind, Pamela.”

“The truth, Grant, is that I already know the answers, but I want to hear you say them,” Pamela said, arching an eyebrow. “You’re a textbook case, and not just that, I’ve personally seen your type come through the programme before. Their success rate was not good.”

“Oh, really,” Grant said, rolling his eyes. “What do you want me to say? That Carl thinking Derek had a point about names set me off? He was just a convenient excuse.”

“Hrm,” Pamela said. “Maybe he was simply an excuse. But what else is lurking in that brain of yours? Why would you even want to go back to your family? You’ve spoken with Carl a fair bit about the arseholes; it doesn’t sound like there’s any love lost between you and them.”

“So what?” Grant said. “They’re still my family, and they have enough power to make sure that every last one of you gets what’s coming to you.”

“So running to your grandmother is it?” Pamela asked, arching her eyebrow minutely. “She sounds like the worst of the lot. She controlled your funds, she chose your schools and course of study and profession, and she had quite a lot to say about your relationships.”

“Oh, screw you. Yes, she was a controlling… woman,” Grant said, briefly hesitating on word choice. Amazing level of self-control given everything today. “Today was just about escape, and bringing a world of pain down on you.”

Pamela managed not to smirk. “Carl’s getting it slowly. Derek, Owen, even Randal, seems to get it more than you do. The only way out is through, and to get through, you have to work on yourself.”

“Randal’s just hoping to get out of here the long way round and burn you down,” Grant sneered. “He’s not really broken.”

“Fake progress is still more than you’ve had lately, though,” Pamela said, and she noticed a beep on her phone. She quickly glanced at the content of the notification. Time to move to plan B, she thought. “I’m done with you, for now, Grant; you seem to have no interest in progress. I’ll be back to talk more when you’re ready.”

She turned on her heel and quickly walked towards the end of the hall as the curtains started closing behind her. Grant was shouting about how she’d be back as they closed behind her retreating form. Whatever breach had happened had the worst, or maybe best, timing ever. This could work to her advantage over Grant. Hopefully.

As she passed Derek’s cell, she paused, smiling weakly at Monica as she approached the door while the curtains closed, looking worried. Monica quickly unlocked the door and stepped through just as the curtains closed, joining Pamela in the hallway.

“What the hell happened?” Pamela said.

“I’m not sure,” Monica answered. “Consensus said something about a breach, but there weren’t any details.”

It was in this moment that another sponsor arrived. “Nell,” Pamela asked, “do you know what happened?”

“Well, there was a breach,” Nell said.

“We know that much,” Pamela said.

Nell shrugged. “Besides that, all I know is that I was told to prepare cell three for an intake.”

“An intake?” Monica asked. “At the end of March?”

“Sounded strange to me too. But it's bedlam up there — nobody had the time to explain. If you’ll excuse me?” She ducked by them and headed into the cell block.

“How strange,” Monica said thoughtfully. “They must’ve closed the curtains so our boys wouldn’t see this new person.”

“They had perfect timing,” Pamela grumbled. “I mean, I’m going to make use of it with Grant, but I would’ve made use of an uninterrupted conversation, too.”

“I know. I got out of my conversation with Derek as clean as I could before I was completely closed off in there with him. I mean, I trusted him not to hurt me, but we were making some good progress, mostly.”

“He was talking about names earlier, in the common room.” Pamela said. “If he’s picked something, that would be amazing progress.”

“Yeah, well, the first name he brought up was Dorothy,” Monica said, frowning. “Turns out his fucking grandmother, of all people, was named Dorothy, and he adored her. Even said he wanted to be like her.”

“No relation, right?” Pamela asked, raising her eyebrow.

“None,” Monica said. “That complete bitch of a woman, as far as we know, never procreated. Anyway, I told him that close relations were out because of the risk of people making connections. We don’t usually, and sure some girls get contact with their families, but.”

“Yeah, but,” Pamela said, nodding. “Did she have any other names in mind?”

“Madelyn,” Monica said, nodding. “He even agreed I could call him that to try out, at least in private.”

“Congrats,” Maria said as arrived. There was a lot of noise behind her in the stairwell; it sounded like several people were carrying something bulky. “I’m glad there’s some good news today.”

“Maria, do you know what’s going on?” Pamela said.

“Well, there’s been a breach,” Maria said.

Pamela and Monica shared an exasperated glance.

“An undisclosed guest got into basement one unsupervised,” Maria continued. “We haven’t finished reconstructing her movements from the surveillance, but given her reaction, she must have seen too much. And then an…over-eager PMC took her down with a taser.”

Two sponsors shuffled into the hallway carrying a stretcher between them with a girl Pamela didn’t recognize. She looked in transition — maybe a bit farther along than Grant and the others, though her red hair was quite a bit longer. “Who’s that?” she asked.

“Fuck me,” Monica said upon seeing her. “What’s gonna happen to her?”

“We’ll leave that in her sponsor’s hands,” Indira said; she had come down behind the stretcher.

“I thought she was adamant she wasn’t a sponsor?”

“She was, but it’s time for her to put up or shut up,” Maria said bluntly.

“Speaking of which,” Indira said as Nell stepped out of the cell block, holding the door for the girls with the stretcher, “she’s in the common room and out of the loop. Someone needs to tell her that her girl is in the cell block.”

“Not it!” Monica, Pamela, and Maria said together.

Nell looked at them in confused resignation. “Oh fucking hell, what did I just get volunteered for now?”

***

Sophia was annoyed. She tried to enjoy the lunch — the food was great, and Stephanie’s intake were really fun to hear interacting with each other — but she kept slipping cogs listening to them. It wasn’t fair that Stephanie, Ellen, Mary and so on would all get to go to Annette’s swanky gallery opening and she and Nerys would be stuck back here at the Hall, alone. Then there was the time Mary came down on Nerys the day after Valentine’s Day. The orchis. The implants. The kidnappings. The sponsors holding Sophia’s transition over her head as the most awful carrot and stick combo ever devised; she would’ve done anything — haddone terrible things — in the service of Dorley Hall in the name of her transition.

They could’ve told her up front before forcing her to commit, and she probably would’ve walked away and left them to it. She was aware enough to know that if she were to expose this place it would only put her at the center of the spotlight — a place she desperately didn’t want to be. But she’d stayed because she was desperate and they had used that to coerce her to involve herself. What was it Maria had said this morning? She’d been given the same choice as the boys: cooperate or wash out, but with the added threat of ‘and never get to transition’ tacked on to the latter.

When the first alarms went off, she didn’t really notice right away, as Aspen had just said something pretty funny. But then her brain slipped back on to this placeand what it does to people. There had to be a better way, a better use for the resources Dorley Hall put into assholes like Grant, and fucking Randal. And then Aunt Bea stood and made a short speech, thankfully leaving Sophia and Nerys out of it today. But hearing her speak in couched terms about the graduates was just another reminder that the boys in the basement had gotten into some sort of trouble. And whatever got them in so much trouble must be connected to the boys figuring out she was a plant. An impossible position, one she wouldn’t be in if they hadn’t forced her to sign on the dotted line without showing her the fine print.

Stephanie stepped away to use the restroom after Bea’s speech, leaving her feeling a touch alone, but Nerys held her hand under the table and that helped some, and so did the profiteroles. But then there was a second wave of beeping and after more sponsors left to deal with it, the hall looked practically barren. Nearly every sponsor in the room, including some of the second year’s sponsors, had departed — but none from her table.

Whatever had happened down there, it must’ve been positively cataclysmic to draw so many sponsors down for just five boys in the basement, but Sophia wanted no part of it. All she had wanted was to be a girl — not to be part of some absurd ‘reform’ programme that had mutilated over half the people in the room. She decided when Stephanie was back, she would ask permission to move upstairs for at least a little while, but the idea that she even had to ask permission for that simple thing irked her greatly.

She realized Aspen had asked her some question after the second wave of beeping, and she started to ask them to repeat it, but she froze before the first word even left her lips. Like a pair of sharp knives through the reduced noise of the crowd, she heard Rachel say something about Jessica and, before that, Sheffield. That was her mum’s name, and she still lived up there, probably. Belinda and Rachel had glanced her way occasionally all through the meal, and she hadn’t been able to figure out why — but maybe her mum had shown them an old photo from before she got kicked out.

“I’ll be right back, Rainbow,” she said quietly as she stood, looking apologetic. She waved at the others to stay, and quickly walked towards Rachel, her apologetic look from a moment before quickly replaced with confusion. Sophia needed to know what Rachel knew, and her face became more confused as she approached the table. She saw Amelia, and her face grew even more conflicted — without this place, she wouldn’t have her mums, who clearly loved her — but she continued towards their table.

“What was that about someone named Jessica?” she asked Rachel flatly when she was close enough.

“Oh, uh,” Rachel said, turning around to face Sophia. “She’s just a woman who’s been helping with our support group in Sheffield.”

“That was my mum’s name,” Sophia said quietly. She watched Rachel’s reaction — mild surprise, maybe she didn’t know. The others at the table appeared mostly mildly curious. “And she lives in Sheffield. How do you know my mum?”

“Jessica’s a pretty common name, Sophia,” Rachel said, recovering. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

“No. This isn’t a coincidence. You have both been looking at me all lunch,” Sophia said. “Have we met before?”

“Uh, well, I think I have, anyway,” Belinda said, a brief sad look crossing her face. “Trans Day of Remembrance, 2021.”

“That was you on the bench?” Sophia asked, surprised. She hadn’t really paid attention back then to what the adults organizing it looked like. She racked her memory for that person’s voice, it was at least similar.

“Yes, and I’m very pleased you didn’t do anything regrettable. You did worry me quite a lot,” Belinda said, smiling softly. “I’m glad you found a way to be yourself.”

“Honest, that’s all it is,” Rachel said. “We were just surprised by the small world of it all.”

“No, there’s something else. Tell me about your Jessica,” Sophia demanded. She knew someone was lying to her, she just wasn’t sure about what or who yet.

“Oh, well, she lost touch with her trans daughter,” Rachel said, slowly. “She’s been trying to search for her to no success.”

“How likely is it there are two Jessicas in Sheffield who lost contact with a trans daughter?” Sophia asked screwing her face up, it made no sense, unless… she peppered more questions at Rachel. “What’s her last name? What’s her hair colour, are her eyes blue like mine?”

“It’s kind of unlikely,” Rachel said quietly. “Her last name is Whittaker, and yes, she has your hair and eyes. And I told her that if I saw her daughter, I would pass on that she’s working on herself —”

Sophia started losing touch with her senses for as Rachel spoke, her heart rate was increasing and her breath getting shallower, but then she caught a glimpse of Stephanie walking back in from the bathroom. She felt a bit faint, and confused, but her anger crystallized as she looked at Stephanie. The woman who’d kidnapped her, locked her in a cell, made her complicit in this abattoir and who had been lying to her the entire time! Her mum was looking for her!

“Oh hey Soph, what’s up?” Stephanie asked with a confused smile as she approached.

“Did you know my mum was looking for me?” Sophia asked quietly, fixing her gaze unflinching at her. Stephanie started walking over towards Sophia, her face filled with concern and all the confirmation she needed, and Sophia started backing up as she got closer. “You knew, didn’t you? How long have you known?”

“Yes, Sophia, I knew,” Stephanie said quietly, taking another step forward. “I’m sorry.”

“No! This isn’t something you get to be sorry about! You kidnapped me, then liedto me about my mum!” Sophia said angrily, shaking her head as it sank in what they had done. “Wait, was that her in January? That Sunday, you shuffled us upstairs without reason?”

“Yes,” Stephanie said quietly, reaching a hand out. “They didn’t tell me it was her until later, but it was her.”

“My mum was here? It’s —” she said, her breathing became ragged and rapid. She couldn’t focus on the words, much less the people around her. She ran from the dining hall into the maze of the back rooms, practically running into Aunt Bea as she left the room, who just looked startled at Sophia’s state. The maze of back rooms was confusing, and she wasn’t sure if there was any way out of it.

Sophia looked around as she ran and started trying doors and none were unlocked, and she didn’t think any of their bulky biometric locks would respond. Eventually, she ran out of rooms to check, and arrived in a large room — it looked as if it had been a nice conservatory once, but now it was dingy and filled with disused furniture. There were doors, but there was no way out, not without someone to unlock them. She was trapped here at Dorley with her kidnappers, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath, her pulse was pounding in her ears and she felt her legs start to give way.

Suddenly, someone was beside her, helping support her as her legs gave up entirely. Whoever it was guided her to a ratty old chaise lounge covered with a sheet and helped her get sat down on it. “Hey, what happened in there?” the woman asked gently. Sophia looked up at her as she sat down next to her — who was she? Oh, she must be Ashley, the woman Melissa had thanked earlier. She must have some involvement with the hall if Bea and Melissa were thanking her. “Take slow deep breaths,” and Ashley demonstrated, and Sophia tried to follow her timing.

“They’ve been lying to me,” she wailed after she calmed down enough to speak. “My mum is out there somewhere looking for her daughter, and I’m trapped here, I can’t even go looking for her — and I… I don’t even know if I —” She couldn’t continue because of the sobs that racked her whole body.

“Oh, sweetie, that’s awful,” Ashley said after she’d calmed down a bit. “I had no idea they’d been keeping that from you.”

“Aren’t you, like, involved?” Sophia said, choking back phlegm as her anger twisted into sadness. “You’re Ashley, right? You helped Melissa adopt Amelia. You know about this place, you’re involved!” Sophia mustered a little strength and tried to push her away, to no success. Ashley’s arm was firmly around her shoulder, and Sophia didn’t have the strength to fight her.

“I do know about this place, yes,” Ashley said, nodding. “But, that doesn’t change that I want to help you if I can. This was a terrible thing to do, even by Dorley’s standards, and I’m sure by this point you know sort of what those standards are.”

Sophia nodded sniffing. “It’s just such… a… —“ she couldn’t find the words.

“A betrayal?” Ashley offered gently.

“Yes! A betrayal! I thought Stephanie was my friend, my sister even,” she said, her anger returning, displacing the tears briefly again. She pushed against Ashley again, who just continued holding her. “I don’t even know why they would do this, why wouldn’t they have told me sooner!”

“This place has an almost pathological fixation on secrecy and the lies that maintain it,” Ashley said. “And with some good reason usually, but I admit, I’m surprised by this length. What do you want to do?”

Sophia sniffed again. “To run far away! Maybe even to find my mum, but I’m stuck here, with these… these liars,” she said angrily. “Trapped. I don’t think any of these doors will unlock for me, and there’s bound to be a ton of them between me and any other exits.”

“Maybe I can help there,” Ashley said, a concerned smile on her face, her other hand gently lifted Sophia’s chin to look at her again. “If I walk out the front door with you, they won’t stop us. And while they know where I live, they won’t come hunt you down, try to kidnap you away from me. They know that wouldn’t work out for anyone, you or them.”

“But what about Nerys? My, uh, my girlfriend. I… I can’t just leave her behind alone!” Sophia started crying again — there was no way they would let her go too.

“She’s a regular programme participant?” Ashley asked and Sophia managed a minute nod, and Ashley looked briefly unsure. “It might be a bit trickier for me to get both of you out, but I likely could get her out, too. But they would probably want to retrieve her for security’s sake. And the two of you showing up at once at might would raise some difficult questions.”

“Yeah,” Sophia said quietly, her face shifting rapidly again. “She most likely wouldn’t go with us anyway.”

“Oh?”

“She’s… she’s been different since the orchi. More confident and, uh, assured of herself. I don’t think I could convince her to come with me away from them, from Mary and her transition.”

“Well, I’m sure we can arrange for you to talk to her,” Ashley offered. “On the phone or via text messages or something.”

“I just can’t be around these people right now,” Sophia said quietly. “If, I uh, change my mind though?”

“You are free to come and go from my place as much as you please, honest,” Ashley said and crossed her heart. “Even if you choose to come back here — and that would only be if you chose it. Not them, not me, you.”

Sophia nodded slowly, she didn’t think she would ever want to set foot in this hall again — but the choice sounded good. Today had been too much bad, between everyone down there learning her truth, the art show she got hopeful for only to have it dashed a moment later and now this… this treachery. “I, I uh, I have some questions first, if you don’t mind? The last time I took an offer on little info and short notice, I uh, I wound up here.” She chuckled nervously.

“Absolutely reasonable,” Ashley said, smiling, “ask away.”

“I uh, where do you even live?”

“London, well, Bromley,” she said. “It’s a bit of a hike, but I’ve got my car here.”

“Oh, good,” Sophia said, not really knowing whether Bromley was okay or not. Or whether her having a car here was good or not. “Is it, uh, just you?”

“I’ve got one boarder currently. Her name is Allie, and she’s a bit like you — had some bad luck with her transition and family,” Ashley said warmly. “And at the risk of telling you too much, she was a referral from Dorley — she was being considered alongside you.”

“As in, she got to live with you and have a normal transition and I, uh, I…”

“Got dragooned into being a Judas goat?”

“Yeah, that,” Sophia said, nodding. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

“There were reasons for it, but I doubt you really want me to try to convince you they made the right choice for both of you right now.”

“No, uh, I guess not,” Sophia said. ‘True Believer’ flashed in her mind — Ashley believed in Dorley to some extent. Would Ashley be enough separation from this place? She didn’t have an answer and shook her head. “Does she… uh, know?”

“About Dorley? No, nothing. To her, I’m just this weird old trans woman who takes in youngsters to help them out.”

“That’s good of you,” Sophia said, nodding. “I guess, keeps them out of… this horrible place. And I would be…?”

“Another person I told a friend I could help. She’ll understand — and I’ll text her in a bit that you’re coming with.”

“Sure, okay,” Sophia said, nodding. Maybe this would be a good thing, leaving Dorley and being mostly out from under its thumb with regular trans folks. They talked for a bit more about arrangements, and expectations of both of them, and Ashley listened patiently as Sophia gushed about Nerys for a solid five minutes.

“Yes,” she finally told Ashley. “Let’s go.” She felt as good about this as she could, and when Ashley stood and offered her arm, Sophia stood and put her arm through Ashley’s. She leaned on her a bit as she dealt with her muscles that had apparently been unhappy with her unannounced run through the back rooms.

Sophia got more nervous as she approached the dining hall, but it was surprisingly empty — whatever had happened in the last twenty minutes, there was barely anyone about. The dishes were cleared, and she saw all the second years in the kitchen through the doors. As she approached, she saw they were cleaning under the watchful eyes of Bella, Charlie, and Ellen. Sophia hesitated as they approached the doors, but Ashley gripped her arm tighter. “It’ll be okay,” Ashley said quietly to her, leaning down near Sophia’s head. “Trust me.”

They stepped into the kitchen and walked towards the doors out into the lobby, out to the public spaces of the hall, out to the university and the world beyond. Ashley quickly picked up her bag from the kitchen table, placed her fingerprint on the reader on the doors out, and Sophia flinched briefly when she heard the lock cycle. Ellen turned to look at them. Sophia turned away from her, she couldn’t meet Ellen’s eyes. “We’re going,” Ashley said calmly and evenly. “We’ll be in touch in due course. Give my regards to Bea, Ellen.”

“Sophia?” Ellen asked quietly. “Are you leaving us?” Sophia nodded affirmatively minutely, unable to meet Ellen’s eyes. Ellen came over and put her arms around Sophia. “I’m sorry. I said this wasn’t okay, and they kept putting off figuring out how to tell you. I will always care about you no matter what and if you ever need anything, please let me know, and I will do what I can to help — and so would Stephanie.”

Sophia fought the urge to shout at Ellen that she didn’t want Stephanie’s help with anything and settled to nod minutely again. She didn’t really care if Stephanie cared about her right now; she just wanted this interaction to end. Ellen released the one-sided hug; Sophia met Ellen’s eyes briefly and felt tears forming in the corner of her eyes, but she nudged towards the doors Ashley had unlocked.

Ashley took the hint and pushed the doors open, and Sophia allowed herself to be guided out of Dorley Hall and into the unseasonably sunny spring day. She winced at the brightness as she stepped outside. Ashley held her tighter as she guided Sophia to the car park, which Sophia was fine with; she needed something to hold on to. Sophia turned briefly to take her first — and possibly last — look back at the outside of Dorley Hall. Ashley paused a moment to let her look, and then Sophia turned her gaze back to the pavement as Ashley led the way to her car.

This is the end of Dorleypilled’s second arc! The date for the third arc starting still TBD, but will be after the New Year!