T W E N T Y - T W O

The Road Not Taken Looks Real Good Now

 

2024 March 15
Friday

When the hell had Aunt Bea started using Consensus? The chat app had been the lifeblood of the Hall since the first graduates left, of course, but Aunt Bea had never been someone you would talk to by direct message. No—you would walk up to her office, or call her cell number, or, if you were still a boy, shout back at her disembodied voice over the intercom.

And yet yesterday she had told Summer to keep her updated about their ETA on Consensus, so while Persephone hunted for an empty space in the car park, Summer messaged Aunt Bea that they were about to arrive. Apparently some things really do change.

A moment later, they were walking up the path, each of them pulling a suitcase behind. They’d left a lot in Elle’s cottage, but it was still going to take several trips to bring everything they’d packed inside.

With luggage rolling behind them, they stuck to the pavement. As they passed the café, Summer said, “Okay, so once we’ve settled in, we’re surely going to end up talking to some of our new neighbors. And I don’t think it’d be a good idea to tell them your rich, murderous uncle is after you. So I have a cover story for you to use.”

“Yes?”

“Dorley Hall has something called the ‘bridging program’. It’s for girls who are expected to attend Saints in the next academic year, but who need temporary housing before that.”

“That’s rather kind of them.”

“We do what we can.” Especially to explain what the second-years are doing there once they start going outside. Like the dormitory itself, the bridging program was both very real and a cover story. “So if anyone asks, you’re in the bridging program, planning to start a master’s in classics in the fall.”

“Okay,” Persephone said. She paused, then asked, “Do you really think it’s safe here?”

“Yes,” Summer said. From Albert, anyway, she thought. “It isn’t overt, but Dorley Hall has a stronger security presence than even Littleport did. Plus, it’s right next to the university—if your uncle tried to pull that kind of stunt here, it’d be a national scandal.” Which was exactly why Aunt Bea’s enemies had never tried to snatch the Hall back by force.

Soon they passed the Student Union Bar, and then they were climbing the hill, the vine-covered brick edifice before them, somehow simultaneously foreboding and inviting in Summer’s eyes. A few steps later, Summer realized she wasn’t hearing as much wheels-on-asphalt rumbling as she expected. She looked back; Persephone had stopped and was shaking her head.

“All right, Penny?”

“Fine,” the girl said; she grabbed her bag and trotted forward to catch up. “Just a bit of déjà vu. It really does look a lot like your tattoo, y’know? I can see why that woman recognized it on New Year’s.”

“Yeah,” Summer said with a soft smile. She glanced down at the body art; with her coat on, only the part where the vines wrapped around her wrist was visible, but it was very familiar.

A reminder of the place that had once been home.

 

* * *

 

Dorley Hall was obviously an old building, so Persephone wasn’t surprised that the entrance hall wasn’t as warm as she’d like. But it was still richly appointed; even if she hadn’t known that Auntie Elle was behind it, she’d have guessed it was someone with old money.

But most of her attention fell on the woman standing before the stairway on the right. From her dress to her hair to her makeup to her gestures to her kind, welcoming smile, she might have been the Platonic Form of middle-aged femininity. Persephone found herself hoping she could pull that sort of thing off by her forties.

“Summer!” the woman said. “It’s been too long!”

The purely affectionate smile Summer gave her was one Persephone hadn’t seen on her before. “It’s good to see you, Aunt Bea.” She stepped forward into a hug and they exchanged cheek-kisses.

Was this the person Summer had called while they were escaping? Persephone had imagined a clandestine supervisor of secret agents, not a mother hen worried about a young lady who called her ‘Aunt’.

“I hear you were reunited with an old friend a couple years ago,” Summer said. “How has that gone?”

The smile Aunt Bea gave Summer was so radiant that Persephone could swear the room warmed a couple degrees. “Wonderfully,” she said.

“I’m glad you found her,” Summer said, giving her another little squeeze for emphasis, before she stepped back and took Persephone’s hand. “Aunt Bea,” she said, an odd mix of formality and irony creeping into her tone—an inside joke, perhaps? “I’d like to introduce you to Miss Persephone Chase. Persephone, this is Ms. Beatrice Quinn, the custodian of Dorley Hall and the person who put a roof over my head during my transition.”

“Then I’m glad to meet you,” Persephone said as they shook hands. “Summer…I mean, I don’t know what I’d have done without her.”

“I understand—she’s told me about your circumstances,” Beatrice said. “Though I wish it were a happier occasion, I’m pleased to meet you.”

When they let go of the handshake, Beatrice did something odd. She lifted her hand towards Persephone’s chin, but paused an inch away.

“You’re becoming so lovely,” Beatrice said. “May I take a look?”

Persephone glanced to Summer, who gave her a sort of half-nod, half-shrug: Up to you, but nothing to worry about. “Sure,” Persephone said.

Beatrice touched her hand to Persephone’s chin and started tilting her head around, examining her at different angles. It was strangely like what she’d seen Uncle Albert do to Summer, though her firm touch was much more personal than his cane. Nothing like the gentle way Summer always touched her, tho—

Okay, maybe don’t think about that sort of thing while Summer’s surrogate aunt is staring at me.

At least Beatrice didn’t seem displeased with what she saw. On the contrary, she was looking at Persephone with unexpected fondness. “I can see him in you,” she said quietly, and before Persephone could get upset about the gendering of that statement, she continued, “Dylan, I mean, before he transitioned. Those cheekbones did make him rather dashing, but they were wasted on a man. I’m glad he passed them to someone who can do them justice.” She let go of Persephone’s chin.

“You knew my mum?” Persephone asked.

Beatrice smiled. “Elle introduced us,” she said. “I spent more time with him before he transitioned than after, but he was so happy as a man; it was a beautiful thing to see.”

“Yeah,” Persephone said, smiling too. “He was.”

“You know, I actually helped convince him to start HRT,” Aunt Bea said.

“Really?”

“Really,” Beatrice said. “He’d just come out to me, and then he started to explain that he wasn’t sure when he was going to start transitioning, it was all so complicated with work and family and—well, all the same excuses I’d heard from far too many twentysomething women to tolerate from a thirtysomething man. So I marched over to the medicine locker, gave him a bottle of AndroGel, and told him to take it now before he wasted a decade dithering. And he did.”

Persephone giggled. It had seemed rather sudden at the time.

“Which reminds me,” Beatrice said, turning to Summer. “Summer, why don’t you fetch what you two need from the medicine locker?”

Summer’s eyes cut to Persephone’s. “Alright if I leave you here?”

“Sure; Ms. Quinn seems nice,” Persephone said.

Summer gave Beatrice another look that Persephone could only take as an inside joke; then she walked to the large pair of double doors across from the entrance, thumbed the fingerprint reader on the lock, and stepped through it. The doors she passed through had windows; through them, Persephone could see her walk into a large but homey-looking kitchen. She paused, looked around, and then walked through another doorway and out of sight.

The kitchen was nicer than the one in her old dormitory, although that AGA in the back was probably tricky to cook with. But it was the lock that really held her attention. “Well,” Persephone said, “this place certainly seems secure enough; your locks look better than the ones my uncle uses.”

“The biometric locks are only on certain floors,” Beatrice said. “A pilot program that didn’t pan out; we found that the girls would just prop doors open if they couldn’t lend out their keys, and it takes ages to get a technician out when we need to add someone to the system.”

Beatrice walked to the notice board on the wall, idly inspecting the contents, and Persephone followed. There were a couple posters advertising voice training; she wondered how many trans girls lived here. From Summer’s stories, it sounded like there were a couple each year.

“But I think you’ll find,” Beatrice continued, “that you’re quite safe here regardless. You aren’t the first young woman I’ve had to protect from powerful men, Miss Chase.”

Persephone thought of what Tabby had told her—about a man who’d come here to hurt his daughter; about Summer’s refusal to help him; about what it had cost her. And she thought of the corpse in the hallway at Littleport. “I just hope nobody else is hurt protecting me,” she said.

Persephone felt a hand on her shoulder. “Miss Chase,” Beatrice said, “I’ve met many men like your uncle. He is a monster nurtured by unearned privilege and unchecked power; he is vicious not because his victims have done something to cause it, but because he enjoys being vicious.” There was an urgent undercurrent to her voice, like she was voicing thoughts she had often dwelled upon. “It is not your duty to ensure he directs all of his cruelty at you.” She touched the scar on Persephone’s cheek, making her flinch. “I daresay you’ve absorbed more than your share already.”

The entry doors opened at that point and a handful of uni-aged girls poured in from outside, pulling or carrying baggage and chattering excitedly, trailed by an older black woman who was in the middle of saying, “—behavior, girls.” A very familiar woman, matter of fact.

“Tabby?” Persephone said.

“Persephone!” Tabby stepped around the girls she was escorting. “So glad to meet you in person!”

Persephone held out her hand to shake, but Tabby raised an eyebrow. “Come on, we can do better than that,” she said, and opened her arms for a hug. After a second’s hesitation, Persephone stepped into it. “Good girl,” Tabby whispered when they parted, and it was so like something Summer would do that Persephone couldn’t help but smile at her.

“How was the drive?” Tabby asked.

“Not too bad,” Persephone said. “Just glad the weather held up.”

Then she heard a buzzing from the kitchen doors. The lock cycled and Summer emerged from the kitchen with a paper bag and a grin. “Tabs!” she said.

“Babe!” Tabby replied, her smile just as wide.

The two met in a hug halfway between, squeezing each other tight. Persephone glanced at Beatrice, who was smiling at the scene, and Persephone found herself smiling too, because she’d never seen Summer quite so happy as she was in her big sister’s arms.

 

* * *

 

For a moment, it was as though Summer were a decade younger. Still a third year, still ahead of her peers (except for fucking Melissa, of course), still in the loving care of her sponsor but solidly on track to graduate. Before things had gotten frustrating, before she’d been hurt, before she’d accumulated any new regrets, before she’d left.

“I’ve missed you,” Summer whispered to her sister.

“Me too,” Tabby murmured back, rising on tiptoes to kiss Summer’s forehead before they parted.

Then she saw Persephone looking at them like Tabby was an adorable puppy and Summer was a cute kitten getting a piggyback ride from her, and that was even better than the nostalgia.

Suddenly aware of the audience for this reunion, Summer looked around. Aunt Bea was looking a little misty-eyed. There were also a gaggle of young girls, probably not even graduates yet, who were…carrying their luggage?

“You fetched our things?” Summer asked.

“I asked her to,” Aunt Bea said. “That way you don’t need to leave the premises. Tabitha, perhaps you could introduce the girls to each other?”

“Right,” Tabby said, and then pointed to each girl in turn. “Summer here’s former Dorley staff, and Persephone is a new arrival. Katy and Lilah are both freshers, and Riley and Zoe there are in the bridging program.”

“Oh, right, uh, me too!” Persephone said to the two second years. Summer wasn’t sure which of the three looked more confused. Hoo boy.

“Thank you for your help, girls,” Summer said to draw their attention away from each other. “Aunt Bea, where are we taking these?”

“Room three-ten,” Aunt Bea said. “I trust you remember the layout?”

“Yes, Aunt Bea.” Summer turned to Tabby. “Are you still in 308?”

Tabby grinned. “It was damn convenient to put you next door. You’ll see…”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Aunt Bea said. “Welcome home, Summer. And Persephone? Welcome to Dorley Hall.”

 

* * *

 

Persephone was grateful to find it a little warmer once they reached the third-floor common room. She was surprised, though, that there weren’t any students around.

“Where is everyone?” Persephone asked. “They can’t all still be in classes at this hour.”

“Probably upstairs,” Tabby said.

“There’s a section of this floor reserved for staff housing,” Summer said, “and it makes the layout a little funny. The common rooms upstairs are bigger, so a lot of students prefer them.”

As the group entered the corridors, they became a bit more compressed, and Persephone found herself being squeezed back into the line until she was next to Riley. The girl looked a little troubled.

“Something on your mind?” Persephone asked.

“Zoe and I both have a surgery coming up,” Riley said. She looked over at her, hesitating. “You’re, uh, you’re trans, right?”

“Yeah,” Persephone said with a little frown. No matter how many times she was told she was ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’, everyone could still tell, especially on days when she wasn’t wearing much makeup.

“We’re both getting GRS,” Riley said.

“Oh!” She perked up. “You’re trans too?”

“Yup,” Riley said. “Zoe’s is in five days; mine’s in six.”

“Well, good luck to both of you,” Persephone said. She had to admit she was a little envious; if there was anything the last month of bedroom adventures with Summer had proven, it was that she had absolutely no use for the factory equipment. “Wait, at the same time? Don’t you need a lot of help right after GRS?”

“Yeah,” Riley said. “Don’t worry—we have it covered. Bella and Nell are setting up a rota.”

“Bella and Nell?”

“Our sponsors,” Riley said, and then she seemed to realize Persephone didn’t understand that. “I—um—I mean, y’know, sort of, older girls who volunteered to watch out for us.”

“Oh,” Persephone said, “like Tabby did for Summer?” Odd term.

“Probably,” Riley said, glancing at them. “They seem really close; that happens sometimes with a sponsor.”

Persephone smiled. “They are,” she said. “Summer mentioned Tabby in our first conversation, actually. Told me she was her ‘chosen sister’.”

“That happens around here,” Riley said with a giggle. “How did you meet Summer?”

“An online friend introduced us,” Persephone said. “I needed help transitioning, and Summer lived in the same city.”

“So it’s like you had a sponsor, but out in the world?” Riley said. “That’s so cool.”

“Something like that,” Persephone said, cheeks heating. After all, she doubted that Riley’s sponsor ordered her around as much as Summer did.

 

* * *

 

“And here we are,” Tabby said as they stopped at the last set of doors before the secured entrance to senior sponsor housing. She fished a pair of keys out of her jeans pocket and handed them to Summer. “Hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Summer said as she unlocked the door. “I mean, it’s just a dorm room, right?”

But then the door swung open and she discovered it wasn’t. She stood and stared until Persephone squeezed in next to her.

“Oh!” Persephone said. “It’s bigger than I expected! And they brought your stuff!”

And they had. The room didn’t have the full contents of her apartment, but it had everything that could practically fit. Her couch and TV. Her dresser and vanity. Even her bed and toy chest; she’d surely be making use of those before long.

And…and her plants and her fairy lights.

She walked over to the nearest philodendron. It was a pretty tolerant plant to begin with, but it looked well-tended.

“I’ve been watering them since they arrived back in January,” Tabby said. “I hope they’re in good shape.”

“They’re…they’re perfect.” Summer turned to smile at Tabby. “Thank you, Tabs.”

“Always,” she said warmly.

 

* * *

 

In her dreams that night, Persephone once again found herself six years old and in a closet full of women’s clothes, where Summer found her, took her photo, and brought her to see her mother and Auntie Elle. Only this time, Dylan Chase was leaning over the AGA in the spacious, homey ground-floor kitchen of Dorley Hall.