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Trying to reach Marisa on Skype was always a little challenging, so she called her cell instead.
“Mia! Hey there, baby sis, how are you? Did you see any of my postings on Facebook?” Her sister sounded incredibly excited.
“Um, no,” Mia said slowly. “Did something happen?”
“Oh my God, you’re such a study-wort! I can’t believe you never go on Facebook anymore! Well, something did happen. You’re going to have a niece or nephew!”
“Oh my God!” Mia jumped up, nearly screaming in excitement. “You’re pregnant?”
“I sure am! Oh, I know you’re going to think I’m too young, and we just got married, and blah, blah, blah, but I’m really excited.”
“No, I think it’s great! I’m very happy for you,” Mia said earnestly. “I can’t believe my favorite sis is having a baby!”
At twenty-nine, Marisa had exactly the kind of life Mia had always hoped to have. She was happily married to a wonderful guy who adored her, lived an hour’s drive away from their parents in Florida, and worked as an elementary school music teacher. And now she had a baby on the way. Her life could not have been more perfect, and Mia was truly glad for her. And if she felt a twinge – okay, more than a twinge – of envy, she would never let it intrude on Marisa’s happiness. It was not her sister’s fault that Mia’s own life had become such a screw-up in the last week.
They caught up some more, with Mia learning all about the first-trimester nausea and cravings, and then Marisa had to run since her lunch break was over. Mia let her go, already missing her cheerful voice, and then decided to use the remaining time for studying.
An hour later, Mia had gone through the requisite Statistics exercises and had just started reviewing her Child Psychology textbook when Jessie showed up.
“Mia!” she exclaimed with relief, spotting her curled up on the couch. “Oh, thank God! I was so worried when you didn’t come home last night! I called Jason, but he said that you were probably fine and that I shouldn’t worry. What happened? Did John tell you anything useful?”
Mia stared at her roommate, once more debating how much to share with the girl who had been her best friend for the last three years. “He did,” she said slowly, trying to come up with something that would put Jessie at ease.
“Well, what did he say? And where were you last night? Was it with that K?”
Mia sighed, deciding on a plausible storyline. “Well, John basically said that the Ks occasionally get interested in humans this way. It’s usually a passing fancy, and they get tired of the relationship and move on fairly quickly. It’s nothing to worry about, and I should just play along and enjoy it for as long as it lasts.”
“Enjoy what? Sleeping with the K?” Jessie’s eyes widened in shock.
“Pretty much,” Mia confirmed. “It’s really not that bad. He also takes me out to nice places. We’re going to Le Bernardin tonight.”
“Wait, Mia, you’re sleeping with him now?” Jessie’s voice rose incredulously. “But you’ve never been with anyone before! Are you telling me you lost your virginity to him already?”
Mia blushed, feeling embarrassed. At this point, she was about as far from being a virgin as one could get. Seeing her answer in the color washing into Mia’s face, Jessie softly said, “Oh my God. How was it? You weren’t hurt, were you?”
Mia’s blush deepened. “Jessie,” she said desperately, “I really don’t feel like discussing this in detail. We had sex, and it was good. Now can we please change the topic?”
Jessie hesitated and then reluctantly agreed. Mia could see that her roommate was dying with curiosity, but Mia knew she could not keep up her brave act for long. More than anything, Mia wanted to tell Jessie the whole messy story, to reveal the sickening fear she felt at the prospect of ending up as a sex slave or getting caught spying for the Resistance. But doing so would likely put Jessie in danger as well, and that was the last thing Mia wanted.
Lying was a small price to pay for keeping her loved ones safe.
Before Mia had a chance to do much more studying, she was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Opening the door, she was surprised to see a sharply dressed middle-aged woman and a young flamboyantly trendy man standing at her doorstep. The man was holding a zippered clothing bag that was nearly as tall as he was. “Yes?” she said warily, fully expecting to hear them say that they’ve got the wrong apartment.
“Mia Stalis?” the woman asked with a faint British accent.
“Uh, yeah,” Mia said, “that would be me.”
“Great,” the woman said. “I’m Bridget, and this is Claude. We’re personal shoppers from Saks Fifth Avenue, and we’re here to remake your wardrobe.”
Light dawned.
Trying to hold on to her temper, Mia asked, “Did Korum sent you? I thought he was just getting me a dress for tonight.”
“He did. This is your dress right here. We’re going to make sure it fits you properly, and then we’ll take some additional measurements.” Bridget sounded snooty, or maybe that was just the British accent.
Mia took a deep breath. “All right,” she acquiesced, “come on in.” By now, Jessie had come out of her room and was observing the proceedings with great interest, and Mia didn’t want to throw a scene over something so inconsequential.
They came in, and Claude unzipped the bag with a flourish. “Wow,” Jessie said in a reverent tone, “I think I’ve seen that dress on the runway . . .”
