Dear Ariel - Chapter 1

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September 2004

“Sandra, the coffee pot smells like vinegar!” Ariel called out down the hallway, receiving no answer, as expected. She huffed and pulled the finished pot from the burner, holding it at eye level and giving it a quick shake before committing the dark brown liquid to her clear-glass coffee mug. The coffee swirled before coming to a rest inside the mug and she hesitated only slightly before adding sugar and creamer. Fifteen calories per pump – and a possible scale surprise when she weighed herself at the end of the week. Still, her tired eyes and useless limbs demanded caffeine, as did her body if she planned to actually have a productive day.

“Chai tea,” Miles said from his desk behind the brick partition. Ariel half-turned to look at him, mug in hand. He was holding up a thermos, yellow with a floral design. “Healthier for you, and you don’t have to worry about Sandra ‘cleaning’ out the coffee pot.”

“Well,” Ariel said, stepping away and heading toward her desk in front of the partition. “If it’s all the same to you…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Miles rolled his eyes. “Coffee drinker for life.”

“Damn right,” Ariel smirked. She crossed the room carefully, taking a seat at her desk in front of the partition. The Haven had a curious setup – the front of the house was just a single desk in front of a brick facade designed to hide the rest of the office from anyone who wandered in off the street. Not that it happened very often. The idea was to make sure that anyone who came in seeking help wasn’t immediately overwhelmed by the four occupied desks immediately behind Ariel. Given the things that most people came here for, it was understandable.

She booted up her computer and waited for the Windows desktop to appear while she took a sip of her coffee, scrunching her face and looking down at the abomination that not even four pumps of creamer and two sugar packets could save. She set it down on the desk, looking up at the computer screen and navigating to Outlook.

Outlook’s inbox populated, giving Ariel a list of new e-mails along with older ones, already opened and greyed out. There was nothing particularly interesting today – a joke e-mail from Miles and an office policy update from Sandra. She sipped her coffee again and looked up toward the entrance which her desk faced. The front entrance was a set of steel-glass doors flanked by two vertical windows on each side, stretching from floor to ceiling and coated with an anti-UV sheet, rendering all of the outside light a pale blue.

The world beyond the window seemed quiet, fortunately, but then again, this was Ypsilanti and not a whole lot happened here. It was interesting to her, honestly; this place was a stark contrast from her home in North Carolina, Rylee would have survived here. That wasn’t to say that this place was perfect: it had its share of backward-thinkers and hate mongers, but Rylee would have survived here, and that would have been enough.

Thoughts of her lost sister brought back images of that fateful night, when Father had come to his senses and stopped his violent spree mid-stride. When the three of them, Ariel, Mother, and Father had walked to the end of the driveway to see the blood-covered snow. Rylee had never been found, but the incident had been sobering enough that Mother and Father raised no objection when she moved into Amber’s studio apartment the next day. It had been cramped, dry, and practically unlivable with two people, but it had been quiet, peaceful, and she felt safe for the first time in her life. Save for the nightmares.

Letting out a hard sigh, she opened the top right drawer of her desk and pulled out the long-handled mirror. Her face looked okay; blush done perfectly, lips appropriately light pink, and her long blonde hair hung tightly around her shoulders. Today she’d chosen to wear a light blue blouse paired with a khaki skirt -- not the most professional ensemble, but who cared anymore?

Satisfied that her desk was mostly in order, she checked her phone messages and then stood from the desk, walking around the partition and past Miles, who barely looked at her as she pressed on toward Sandra’s office.

Sandra sat at her desk, as usual, sipping an iced coffee and clicking away at her e-mails. She looked up at Ariel as she stepped into the threshold; the age-lines on her face looked even more pronounced today.

“Good morning, Ariel,” Sandra said with a soft, yet insincere smile. “Any calls today?”

“Just the usual.” Ariel shrugged and returned the smile. “We have a temp agency that wants to work with us, and I think we need to call EMU about scholarships again. I’m worried about how we treat trans people here.”

“If we want to keep this place open and keep helping people, we have to follow the money. You know who has the money, Ariel. We can’t operate The Haven on good intentions.”

“Yeah, so you’ve said.” Ariel resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and reminded herself that Sandra needed her paycheck just as much as she did. “Have you…heard anything about my sister?”

“Ariel, sweetie, it’s been nearly a year,” Sandra sighed. “I’ve put out feelers, we’ve talked to the police in your home state, there’s very little that can be done. The girl doesn’t have an online footprint at all.”

“That’s what really bothers me.” Ariel took a step into the office and folded her arms before sinking into the chair across from Sandra’s desk. “She loves computers. She should have a MySpace profile or a Reddit account. She loves tech so much…I’m kind of worried that if she’s out there, someone’s keeping her from using computers or something.”

“Ariel, honey, it could be anything. If she’s out there, she’ll be found. She’s transgender, right? How long is it going to be before she walks into one of our sister facilities or someone we network with? Any day now, Ariel.”

“Right.” Ariel stood, straightening her skirt and nodding, her face grim. “Any day now.”

She returned to her desk and sat, checking Outlook once again for anything new. A single new e-mail at at the top with a red exclamation point indicating an urgent message. She clicked it open and was treated to a list of new job opportunities from Crystal Temps, one of five temp agencies that were working with them.

“Jobs for everyone,” Ariel muttered in a sing-song tone. “Except the trans people, of course.”

She clicked her tongue and checked to make sure that the e-mail from Crystal Temps had been forwarded to the other members of the team. As she clicked the red ‘X’, almost on cue, the front door swung open, and a young man darkened the threshold for a moment before stepping in. He was a little younger than Ariel maybe; thin with stringy brown hair, dressed in a tan button-down shirt and a pair of fit blue jeans.

“Welcome to The Haven,” Ariel said, after taking a moment to recover. “Can we…I mean, how can we help you?”

The boy was nervous; he shifted from left to right, hands in his pockets as he stepped forward, head swiveling as he inspected his environment. Ariel tensed slightly, her hand inching beneath the surface of her desk toward the white panic button affixed near the edge, just below her keyboard. Her fingers lingered over the rounded button as she watched the boy move closer to her desk. Finally he gave her a shallow smile and spoke.

“Hi, um, I’m Chris.” His words were shaky, and he spoke quietly as if he were afraid someone would overhear; each word was accompanied by an eye-dart to the left and then the right. “I um…I heard you help…certain people.”

He was close enough to Ariel’s desk now that she could speak without making it awkward; that was something.

“We help displaced LGBT people, yes,” Ariel nodded. “We can connect you with temp agencies, shelters–”

“My dad cut off my college funds,” he said quickly, the words nearly running together as they brushed past his lips. “He, um…he didn’t approve of…my, um…”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Ariel suggested as the young man broke out into a sweat. His complexion had paled so considerably that Ariel was afraid he might pass out, right there in the lobby of The Haven. The young man nodded quickly and pulled the seat away from Ariel’s desk; it screeched across the floor and he plopped down on it, looking around again, as if he expected someone to walk in and catch him in some kind of ‘ah hah’ moment. “Can I get you anything?”

“Get me…anything?” He stared at Ariel like a deer in headlights, somehow failing to comprehend the question.

“As in, a coffee, maybe a snack?” Ariel suggested, smiling softly as she tried to assess the situation. Was he gay? Bi? Or…was he like Rylee? No, that seemed impossible.

“Oh, um…water…if it’s not too much trouble?”

“Of course.” Ariel smiled again, standing up and rubbing her hands together. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” The boy’s eye twitched and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Ariel watched him for a moment before leaving the desk and walking around the partition, where she made a beeline for the break room.

“Ariel,” Miles called out, stopping her mid-stride. Ariel turned, clasping her hands low in front of her and giving Miles an obligatory smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ariel nodded quickly. “I think the guy’s dad just cut him off.”

“Relatable,” Mariah said from her desk across the room. Ariel nodded again and resumed her journey toward the break room. Inside, she opened the mini fridge and grabbed one of the water bottles from the door. She gave it a quick shake and then thoughtfully tapped the toe of her platforms against the concrete before heading back toward the front. Miles gave her a worried look as she passed, and she simply shrugged in response before heading back to the front, winding around the partition and offering Chris the water bottle before sitting down. He took it gratefully and Ariel waited a moment for the conversation to start – as she expected, he sat there, slowly rotating the bottle over in his hands.

“So, Chris,” Ariel said, breaking the awkward silence. “You said you were having trouble with your finances? Because of your father?”

“Yeah, um…he…doesn’t like the way I am, I guess.” Chris mumbled the words so quietly that Ariel nearly missed them. “I’m…I, uh…I like guys.”

“Okay, look.” Ariel nodded. “I know things are hard for you, and I know you must be super apprehensive, but within these walls, you’re safe, no one will hurt you here, and we can hook you up with a job–”

“I need a place to stay,” Chris said, suddenly interrupting her. “I…I was staying at my dorm, but my dad…he isn’t paying anymore and…”

“Where are you staying now?” Ariel asked, tilting her head slightly with concern.

“Um…just…here and there,” he admitted sheepishly. Ariel tried her best to conceal the anger that suddenly began to boil within her.

“I see,” Ariel said as evenly as possible; she turned to her computer, wiggling the mouse to deactivate the screen saver and brought up The Haven’s shared Excel sheet. “Well, let’s see here; I can put you in touch with one of the temp agencies we collaborate with, and I have an address for a shelter, it’s called the Hope Home. You should be able to get there…oh! Do you have bus fare?”

“Bus fare?” Chris was watching her and listening to her words, but he seemed confused, lost almost. Ariel pursed her lips and looked down at the desk before quickly re-establishing eye contact.

“Yes, just let me get you a bus token.” Ariel smiled, reaching into her drawer and grabbing a handful of round tokens. “This should last you a couple of days. Here, let me get you a print off for that temp agency. Now, from you I need your name, current address, etcetera so I can let the temp agency know you’re coming.”

The rest of the exchange took less than ten minutes, and Chris was on his way. As he left through the front door, envelope in hand, Ariel sat back in her chair, hands gripping the armrest as she broke out into a cold sweat.

Fuck that was intense. The boy didn’t seem to want to do any harm, but he didn’t seem okay. Well, that was kind of a dumb thought, wasn’t it? Ariel scolded herself as she remembered that the boy was probably running from abusive parents and was now facing homelessness. That was enough to put anyone on edge. Still, something in his eyes reminded her of Rylee. The hopelessness, maybe. Who knew? She shrugged it off and returned to her e-mail.


“Hold still!” Fiona laughed hysterically, holding a handful of Rylee’s hair in her fist as she used the other hand to dunk her head in the sink. “Stop flopping around!”

“I’m not!” Rylee shouted above the roar of the faucet. “It’s cold! Let me go!”

“Please don’t drown my little sister!” Tori called out from the living room. “And don’t get hair dye all over the kitchen!”

“Okay, you know what?” Fiona stopped massaging Rylee’s scalp to look up at Tori while Rylee squirmed helplessly under her palm. “I am making a brunette right now. It’s not like making macaroni and cheese, okay?! It has to be done with patience, love, and a lot of elbow grease!” Fiona made a show of dunking Rylee’s head further under the faucet with each enunciated word in the sentence, leading to more enraged squeals from Rylee. Tori rolled her eyes and returned to her book.

“You’ve got this, Rylee!” Wendy shouted excitedly, clapping her hands and jumping up and down as Rylee continued to squirm.

“Christ, child.” Fiona cranked up the water pressure. “I have to get it all out, just hold still!”

“Let me up!” Rylee squealed again, thrashing harder. Fiona rolled her eyes again and gestured for Wendy to pin her one functional arm. Rylee had broken her arm a few weeks ago, and it was currently wrapped in a pink cast, which had been signed and sketched on by Tori, Fiona, Addy, and even Wendy. Anette had declined, silently shaking her head when offered the marker.

“Rylee, I am almost done, just hold still!” Fiona held her down for a moment longer, then shut off the water and snatched the towel from the counter. “Wrap this around your head–Rylee!”

As soon as Fiona’s hand released, Rylee shot up like a freed animal from the sink, shaking her head and spraying brown hair dye all over the kitchen. Fiona screamed and Wendy laughed as they were both dotted with brown drops. Tori took her time pulling the bookmark from the back pages of her current reading endeavor and closing it before heading over to the counter. She leaned forward, crossing her arms across the marble countertop, and shook her head at Rylee, who was now sprawled out across the kitchen floor.

“She did tell you to hold still,” Tori reminded her with a very serious expression that softened with the next words. “Are you okay?”

Rylee nodded her confirmation as she climbed to her feet with the help of Wendy and immediately headed toward the sink to scrub her hands, which were dotted with brown dye spots.

“Thanks for coming, Wendy,” Fiona said, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry she’s…so….Rylee.”

“Hard to be mad at her,” Wendy pointed out. “Besides, you know I’ve been wanting to meet her.”

“That’s true.” Fiona moved toward Rylee and used her still-gloved hand to wipe Rylee’s matted hair away from her eyes. “Rylee, Wendy is kind of the reason you’re here.”

“You know, I just gave her advice,” Wendy interjected, taking Rylee by the arm and guiding her out to one of the kitchen chairs, behind which stood a domed hair dryer supported by a pole. She set Rylee in the chair and moved the dryer into position over her head. “I didn't tell her to kidnap you.”

“You didn’t tell me not to kidnap her,” Fiona argued, taking a seat at the table. “You’ve gotta be more specific.”

“This really the conversation we’re having?” Tori still leaned on the counter and watched the scene unfold in front of her with no small measure of amusement as Rylee squirmed beneath the dryer. “We’re past all that. Yes, mistakes were made, yes, they turned out good, but they were still mistakes. Let’s move on.”

“Okay, well, I have some news,” Fiona announced. “I’m renting the Thackery house.”

“The Thackery house?” Tori repeated. “My house?”

“Max’s house,” Fiona corrected her. “And yeah, living out on Thackery Road is way cheaper than in town. I have a friend going in on it with me.”

“Well,” Tori scoffed. “Enjoy Max.”

“I certainly will not,” Fiona told her firmly. “I promise to hate him as much as you do. Girl code, you know.”

Rylee made an attempt to stand; Wendy gently pushed her back into the chair while advising that her hair wasn't quite done yet.

“I can’t wait to see this hair,” Tori commented. “She’s going to look cute as a brunette.”

“What was the point of this again?” Fiona threw a wayward glance at Rylee, then craned her neck to look at Tori behind her. “You’re trying to make her look different for school?”

“Basically,” Tori nodded. “I know it’s not much of a disguise, but with the haircut we gave her, and this, and maybe straightening her hair? No one’s going to connect the dots.”

“That she’s the same girl from the fair.” Fiona phrased her question as a statement, but the implication was more than clear to Tori. Just four months ago, Tori had had absolutely no idea that Rylee was a trans girl, and then found out unexpectedly at the county fair. The incident tied to it was…disturbing, and they’d done their best to separate Rylee from it as much as possible.

“So,” Wendy said. “Explain how this happened, tell me everything.

“Tall order,” Tori laughed.

“I told you most of it at work,” Fiona reminded her. “She wandered into the house, Tori asked her to stay, the end.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow and looked to Tori, then back to Fiona. “In some versions of this story there’s a gun.”

“Mmmm.” Fiona squeezed her lips together, then parted them slightly and clicked her tongue. “Well, not in this one.”

“You’re going to tell me the whole truth sometime.” Wendy nodded to her, then switched off the hair dryer and pulled it away from Rylee’s chair. Just as quickly, she snatched a purple brush from the table and went to work on her hair. “She is adorable, though. That part was true.”

“I’m right here,” Rylee reminded them.

“Why, yes you are.” Fiona shot her a sideways grin. “And we’re so happy for it.”

Rylee could swear that the correct version of her strange origin story existed only in her mind. The truth was that Rylee, tired and hungry, had broken into Tori’s house four months ago seeking a hot shower and food from the pantry. Tori, after putting a gun to Rylee’s head, had quickly realized she needed help rather than a bullet to the head, and literally refused to let her leave. They often joked that it was the ‘family kidnapping,’ but when Tori or Fiona retold the story, they rather often omitted mention of the gun or changed the sequence of events, though Rylee had no idea why.

“Okay,” Tori said, stepping away from the counter and joining them near the table. She leaned against the surface and looked lovingly at Rylee, practically beaming as the girl’s hair was brushed and straightened until she was nearly unrecognizable. “So, Wendy, what happened is…well, Rylee was hungry so yeah, she broke into my house, and I sort of asked her to stay.”

“Asked?” Wendy laughed. “That’s not the way Fiona told it to me.”

“Look, guys, I…really don’t like being so flippant about it.” Tori tried to assert herself, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “Like yes, okay, she came here by…unconventional means, sure, but she’s home now.”

“Yeah, that I agree with.” Fiona reached over and patted Rylee’s knee. “She’s home.”

“Hey, um, Tori?” Rylee interrupted; the three of them looked to her with silent surprise at the fact that she’d actually spoken. She’d been doing a lot more of that lately, though.

“Yes Ry?” Tori used Rylee’s newly christened nickname, causing Rylee to giggle.

“Um…Kelly and her friends are going bowling today and I, um…” Rylee’s cheeks flushed, then turned red as she realized she was about to ask something completely inappropriate. “I was wondering if I could go with them? I mean it’s kind of dumb, I don’t really like bowling, but they want to go and–”

“Ry, stop downplaying things you actually want to do,” Tori lectured. “And no, you can’t.”

“But I–” Rylee started, and then her face fell as she realized Tori was resolute in her decision.

“Bedroom,” Tori said, pointing off down the hallway, toward Rylee’s room. Wendy pulled the brush away and patted Rylee on the shoulder as she pushed herself away from the chair and gave everyone a sheepish look before heading off toward her room with Tori in tow. It was a short walk down the hall and then a left into the room.

The room had largely been left the same as it had been originally – when Tori had given it to her. This had been Tori’s room when she’d been in high school, and when she’d left home, it had been left largely intact save for the belongings she’d taken with her. Rylee had inherited a closet filled with Tori’s old clothes, her bed, obviously, a dresser, boom box, and a decent CD collection, though she didn’t know any of the bands.

At Tori’s direction, they sat on the bed and Rylee braced for another lecture.

“Let’s start with the obvious,” Tori said, as if she were throwing out a suggestion, but immediately launched into the lecture. “I don’t tell you no just to be mean, okay? Sweetie, you’re…a transgender girl, and that would be hard even if you were a fully functioning adult, which you’re not.”

“Will I ever be?”

“Yes!” Tori nodded empathetically. “Yes, you will. That’s the whole point of this, but first of all, it’s dangerous for you to go out, even with friends. Second, you just…there are so many things you don’t know, socially or otherwise. Your autism makes it hard for you to be present in the moment, and it’s also a learning disability. You have a lot working against you and I’m sorry that it has to be like this. Your parents had fifteen years to sort this out, and it should have been a priority, but I guess…I don’t know, they were busy jacking off or something. But you’re here now, and yes, eventually you’ll be able to go out and do things, but not yet.”

“So that was the obvious,” Rylee sighed. “What’s next?”

“You’ve come a long way, Rylee. Like, a really long way. You can make eye contact with me now, you’re better with touch, you can talk to people, mostly; it’s better than Mom or I expected, but…”

“But?”

“But,” Tori continued. “You’ve been here for four months. Yes, you’ve made a lot of progress, but we’ve really only been working on your issues for about a month. Think about it: you got here in April, and we had to deal with the trauma of, um…”

“You kidnapping me,” Rylee finished her thought for her; Tori rolled her eyes.

“You were given like two outs, Rylee,” Tori pointed out. “Mom would have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

“You still kidnapped me.” Rylee did her best to hold back an obvious grin.

“Yeah, and you need to save your empty cereal boxes so I can cut out the letters for ransom notes. Now anyway, yeah, you’re doing better but I’m not ready to throw you to the wolves just yet. One thing at a time, okay?”

“Okay,” Rylee agreed. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“You’re allowed to ask for things,” Tori reminded her. “I won’t always say yes, and Mom won’t always say yes, but never, ever be afraid to ask.”

“I’m…not used to that,” Rylee admitted. “When my parents told me no or punished me, they didn’t explain like this and….I don’t know, this is weird. I guess I’m still trying to get used to it.”

“Well, how do you feel about it?” Tori asked. Rylee clasped her hands together, turning them over, squeezing them, unsqueezing; it was called ‘stimming,’ apparently. She hadn’t known that until Anette explained it.

“I like it,” she said finally. Tori smiled. “I feel like, um…like I’m someone important enough to listen to. I didn’t feel important before. But it’s still hard because, um…I’m still worried I’ll get yelled at or something for telling the truth. Sometimes I want to say things, but I can’t because I’m just scared.”

“We’ll find your voice,” Tori promised. “And as for the rest, this is how family operates, it’s how we treat each other. The way your old family did it was wrong. I’m sorry, Rylee, but they treated you like an animal and you didn’t deserve that.”

Their moment was interrupted by Tori’s phone buzzing. She pulled it out and looked at the front display rather than opening it.

“I have to go make a call, Ry,” Tori said as softly and affectionately as possible. “I’ll be back out as soon as I can, okay?”


Evening was looming as Ariel left The Haven, frustrated as ever. Every week, they received inquiries either by e-mail or by phone, and they could help some of them, but never all. Absolute bullshit. She turned right, walking down the sidewalk, purse clutched tight to her body as she went.

There was a coffee shop in the downtown area – the one Amber worked at. Some nights they met there after work, and this happened to be one of those nights. Ariel noted the waning heat as she walked; it was September and summer was coming to a close. They were entering that in-between period where the air was still and it wasn’t quite cold yet. Actually, it was probably the most tolerable time of the year where it wasn’t hot, or cold, and one could simply exist rather than worry about sweating or bundling up. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a season that lasted long.

The walk to the downtown area was short; Ypsilanti was only about ten miles across, and all of the major shops were concentrated in two areas that were basically adjacent to one another, making it easy for someone who didn’t care to drive. Ariel was such a person. She neared the coffee shop and could already pick out Amber from a distance; she was framed by the plate glass window of the coffee shop, and bathed in the bright yellow lights overhead. She had a bob haircut these days, ombre, shades of black and gold. Her nose was in a book, as usual, and that in itself reminded her of Rylee. She paused at the corner beneath a streetlight that buzzed to life above her, and then gradually made her way down the sidewalk.

Amber greeted her with a smile as she entered the shop; a bell above the door had announced her presence. The barista looked up momentarily, and then turned away, toward the stainless steel vat behind her; she knew what Ariel would want.

“Rent’s due,” Amber said as Ariel pulled the stool out and took a seat.

“I’ll have it tomorrow,” Ariel promised.

“Sarah’s gonna be pissed.”

“Sarah can go to hell.” Ariel rolled her eyes at the mention of their roommate and the apartment’s leaseholder.

“Any luck on the search?” Amber gently closed her paperback and set it face-up on the table. Something by Neil Gaiman.

“No,” Ariel said sadly. “The Haven has a lot of resources, but…I don’t know, Amber, she just doesn’t seem to be out there. I’m worried that…”

“Yeah, no, don’t think that.” Amber shook her head and reached across the table to grasp Ariel’s hand. “Your mind always takes the darkest route, I swear. Your sister isn’t stupid, she definitely found a way to survive.”

“Then why hasn’t she gotten to a computer? She would have made a MySpace profile or something; there should be forum posts or something. I’ve looked all over the weird tech forums, fantasy forums, anywhere that she might go, and still nothing. I even checked that stupid Unsolved Mysteries site.”

“The one that’s super flashy and has an upside down chatroom?”

“Yeah, that one,” Ariel confirmed with a quick nod. The barista brought Ariel’s drink to the table; a triple latte with cream. “She went there a lot. I wish I knew her password. It’s just…if she can’t get to a computer, she’s….god, Amber, what if she’s living under a bridge or something? Or worse, what if someone has her?”

“Ariel, sweetie, no offense, but Rylee looked like a dude when you didn’t do her makeup and put a wig on her. No one scooped her up for anything.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” Ariel took a quick sip of the latte. “But what if she’s out there and needs help? What can I even do? I’m her big sister, I’m supposed to be able to protect her.”

“Mitigating circumstances,” Amber said. “Your dad was beating the shit out of you and Rylee was crawling away covered in blood, apparently. How much of that do you want to put on yourself, exactly?”

“Okay, look.” Ariel set the cup down with a thud. “I hear what you’re saying and it makes sense, but I can’t get myself to believe it. Look at us, Amber. We’re off living in Michigan and Rylee should be here with us. She should be herself, she should be happy. I should have made it happen. I promised her that it would happen, Ariel. I. Fucking. Promised. Okay?”

“Alright, well, if you can get off the cross for two seconds...” Amber took a slight look to her left. Ariel turned and saw a guy about their age approaching. He had thick brunette hair down to his chin and was dressed pretty nicely in a light gray windbreaker atop a green polo shirt. He smiled nervously as he approached. “Ariel, this is Lucas, Lucas, Ariel.”

“Are you serious?” Ariel demanded, turning back to Amber and giving her the most abhorrent expression she could conjure. “This isn’t the time.”

“When is it the time with you?” Amber rolled her eyes and laughed a little. “You need to get out more.”

“Hey, um, if this is a bad time–” Lucas started, but Amber quickly cut him off.

“This is a perfect time,” Amber said, grinning. “You two have fun.”

Ariel held her glare as Amber slung her black messenger bag over her shoulder and headed up to the counter to settle her bill.

“So, um…I’m Lucas,” Lucas said, sliding into Amber’s now-vacant seat.

“So I gathered.” Ariel gave a dismissive laugh and looked away.

“Amber tells me you guys are new to the area; how do you like it?”

“Well, it’s as good as it can be when the town has a giant penis in the center of it.” Ariel delivered her words with a downward inflection and an eye roll, picking up her cup and sipping at the latte. To her surprise, Lucas chuckled in spite of her intentionally offputting demeanor.

“I mean, yeah, it’s kind of our thing,” he laughed. “The Brick Dick, you know?”

“I’ve seen the postcards,” Ariel confirmed.

“So what do you do? Are you in school or something?”

“I work at The Haven,” Ariel said quickly, hoping to get rid of him. Finally she sighed and laid her arms on the table. “Okay, look, Luke?”

“Lucas.”

“Lucas.” She smiled. “I’m going to level with you, okay? I have a lot going on. I mean a lot. Okay? I’m full of spite, I’m incredibly busy, and I’m apparently on a wild goose chase, so…”

“A wild goose chase? Do tell,” Lucas smiled with genuine interest. Ariel huffed and shook her head, standing up from the table.

“Okay, look, I’m sure you’re a good guy,” Ariel said as politely as possible, “but this…isn’t the right time, I’m sorry.”

She rushed to the counter to pay her bill, and then exited the coffee shop, heading in the direction of Depot Town. As she passed the plate glass window, she could feel Lucas watching her. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, but Christ, Amber had bad timing.

Her apartment was located in Depot down, behind one of the larger buildings adjacent to that burger joint, Frenchies. Or was it a bar? Wait, was it called Sidetrack? She pushed the idle thoughts out of her mind as she sped through Depot Town as quickly as she could in platform heels. It was a quick walk across the bridge adjacent Riverside Park, and then past a few old shops, until she reached the towering storefronts of some of the oldest buildings in Ypsilanti. The street was flanked on either side by storefronts that had changed names and owners probably two dozen times over the last hundred years, and would no doubt do so again in the not-so-distant future.

The center of Depot Town was defined by the dual crosswalks, each made with brick pavers that interrupted the flow of traffic, though not so much as the old iron clock tower betwixt them. The streets were well lit – something that Ariel was grateful for as the daylight had faded completely. Another thing she was grateful for was the swathe of people that were huddled on the streets talking, laughing, and drinking. Depot Town did a great job of drawing people, most of them heading to Frenchies, others sitting in the huge outdoor pavilions. Those crowds would fade away gradually as the fall gave way to winter, but for now they provided some measure of safety. She passed, nearly invisible, through a small crowd and turned right, into an alley lined with red brick pavers, many of them engraved with the names of Ypsilanti-based businesses that had come and gone over the decades.

At the end of the alley, she took a left, walking up a set of wooden steps, ascending the back of the building past three nearly identical porches until she finally landed on her own. Inside the apartment she found Amber fast asleep on the couch, a red plastic bowl of popcorn on her laps, and some chick flick playing at a low volume on their television. Ariel shook her head and quietly closed the door, breezing past the couch and heading to her room.

The apartment was a three bedroom, technically, but the rooms were small. Ariel had taken some initiative and decorated hers with fairy lights and other knick knacks to give the space character. As she entered, she hit the far left light switch, turning on only the fairy lights and giving the room a warm, cozy, almost eerie glow interspersed with shadows that complemented her abysmal mood.

Her laptop was sitting open on the desk next to her bed; it was an old one from The Haven, given to her by Sandra shortly after she went to work there. Still, it was better than nothing, and it had been well cared for. She waited patiently for Windows to load and navigated to her e-mail client. Outlook, just like work, but it was tied to her Gmail account rather than The Haven’s POP3 domain.

She waited patiently for her messages to load; the first one was from one of the building owners on North Washington street asking about a mural. Well, that made sense; they wanted some kind of queer-positive art, and Ariel was a pretty established artist in the area.

“The entire building, though?” Ariel said aloud. “God damn, that’s a lot.”

She clicked the ‘Flag’ button to mark the e-mail as important for later and watched as it turned red and moved to the bottom of the list. The next few e-mails were junk, and one was from Sarah complaining about the rent.

After thoroughly checking the primary inbox, she moved on to her nightly ritual of switching to her other e-mail account, the one that only one person should have, the one that would forever be empty.

She’d made this account three years ago just in case, and a year later, the ‘just in case’ had become reality. She’d texted it to Rylee in the hopes that she’d see it and be able to contact her, but so far, the inbox hadn’t seen a single message. She expected the same today, but as the inbox loaded, her eyes went wide and her heart nearly stopped as she saw a (1) beside the inbox. Her fingers trembled and her breath caught in her throat as she looked at the name of the sender.

Lucille Garcia.

The social worker from North Carolina, the one who had followed up with Rylee more than once as Ariel had relentlessly tried to report the abuse. If she had the address, it meant that it had been found in Rylee’s phone.

Lucille Garcia.

Lucille fucking Garcia.

She trembled with both fear and hope as she opened the message and read the words.

Hi Ariel,

I hope you’re still checking this address; we need to talk. My phone number is in my signature. Call me, please. It’s urgent.

Lucille

“No way.”


Tori quietly closed her bedroom door behind her and stepped around a pile of cardboard boxes next to the closet. Her desk was mostly cleared off with only her Dell laptop sitting open and powered on. She took pause as she stepped around the foot of the bed and stood before the tiny work desk. The laptop was there, beneath a work lamp, surrounded by a pool of white light in an otherwise dark room. The moment she went over there, the moment she connected with Lucille, everything would change. Everything.

She thought back on her time with Rylee; the moment she’d walked in and caught her robbing her home. The moment she’d looked into her eyes and realized that she was dealing not with a hardened criminal, but a scared little girl. There was the moment she’d realized Rylee couldn’t stand being touched, and from there it was one thing after another. A rabbit hole of personality quirks and mental illnesses, none of which made her unbearable but oftentimes more endearing.

Then, of course, there was the trans thing. When Rylee had first come to her, Tori had no clue that she was transgender. She passed as a biological female for all intents and purposes, though Tori much later learned that this was largely in part due to her age and her clearly stunted growth. Rylee had been terrified that Tori would reject her, but it had instead brought them closer together. When she was twenty and marrying Max, she would have scoffed at the thought of all this as she was busy planning for a new child and decorating her new house, but she was now a very different person. She was a person who had loved and lost in more ways than anyone should, and yet she’d found a new family in Rylee. How times had changed.

She walked back to the door and flicked the light switch into the on position before walking back to the desk and double clicking the Netmeeting icon on the computer’s desktop. It took a second for the application to start, but she was able to enter the meeting using the IP address that Lucille had provided. The status bar said ‘Connecting’ for a moment, and then it simply said ‘In a Meeting’. Lucille’s face appeared to Tori for the first time; she was a middle-aged Hispanic woman who looked absolutely exhausted.

“Um…hi,” Tori said, opening the conversation.

“Hi, Tori,” Lucille said; her greeting was followed by a yawn which she quickly silenced by pressing a hand to her lips. “I’m sorry, I’m really glad to meet you, it’s just been a crazy week over here.”

“Not because of me, I hope?”

“Rylee is a side project,” Lucille explained. “We have a lot of other things going on here. Um, let me see…so, Tori, I didn’t know about the ‘Rylee thing’ until Anette contacted me about two months ago. Honestly, it was a stroke of luck that we connected over this particular case. The Skye case was kicked around to a lot of different people, so I guess it was inevitable it would land in my lap. Still, it was one of the more disheartening cases I’ve dealt with.”

“Yeah,” Tori agreed. “It’s been…a lot of work putting her back together. I don’t know if Mom told you everything, but--”

“You mean the part where you put a gun to her head and adopted her?” Lucille asked with a startlingly level tone. “Yeah, I’ve heard weirder adoption stories, I’m just glad she’s safe. I visited her school numerous times and did a home visit. I could always tell something was wrong, but her parents…they were upstanding members of their community and their church. Paid their taxes, had steady employment, kept food in the fridge. Nothing would stick to them.”

“And Rylee?”

“She lied. I think she was afraid of being separated from her sister,” Lucille explained. “Or maybe she was afraid of what her parents would do to her. I don’t know, Tori. Honestly, if she’d just told the truth, I could have worked it out and saved her, but…”

“She does have a self-destructive tendency,” Tori mused, “but we’re working on it.”

“Honestly, Tori.” Lucille took a drink of water before continuing. “Her ending up with you and Anette was…well, it was a stroke of luck. We don’t see happy endings yet and even though it’s probably been rough, this is a happy ending, okay?”

“Yeah, I agree,” Tori smiled. “I totally one-hundred-percent agree that this is a happy ending. She’s come a long way in the last few months and I consider her my little sister. She took our name, you know.”

“Oh, did she? I didn’t know about that.” Lucille’s eyes lit up. “So she’s officially Rylee Blackburn?”

“Now and forever,” Tori said. “And that was after I learned about the trans thing, so you can rest assured that we’re keeping her.”

“I never doubted it, but you have to tell me, how did the trans thing go for you? I’ve seen trans girls before, and a lot of them look great, but you can usually tell. Anette says you couldn’t tell at all with her?”

“Okay.” Tori adjusted her seat and pushed her hair back. “When she first came here, I couldn’t tell. She has long hair and a really really feminine voice, which she worked hard on. She behaves like a girl and I’m learning, now, that men and women have very different, very subtle behaviors that separate them. She emulates the behavior perfectly. Speech patterns, movements, you name it. My friend Fiona figured her out first, probably the first night. She saw a medication Rylee had in her bag, and it was some old style hormone replacement pill. Then my mom, well, Rylee accidentally outed herself, and Mom started doing some digging.”

“And they didn’t tell you?” Lucille asked in surprise. “That seems like something you’d need to know.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, I was pissed at first, but they made some good points.” Tori sighed and smiled, thinking back on that night in her mom’s living room. “What it came down to was Rylee had been violated enough already, and they didn’t want to take her last scrap of dignity away. Unfortunately it was done for her, but that’s another story. The fact is, looking back, Mom and Fiona were hovering around enough to make sure at least one of them was around when Rylee slipped up around me.”

“You guys are really dedicated to this.” Lucille seemed almost proud. “But I shouldn’t expect any less from Anette.”

“So,” Tori said. “What about the sister?”

“Ariel Skye,” Lucille said. “She’s two years older than Rylee and left North Carolina shortly after Rylee. I looked for her after, and at your mom’s request, but she left virtually no footprint. But, here’s the neat thing, that e-mail address she gave you? It’s listed as a secondary for her Myspace Account, so when you put it into a search engine, her Myspace profile is one of the results, but it’s pushed to the second page. She left a trail of breadcrumbs and you guys found it, so good job.”

“Where is she?”

“Ypsilanti, Michigan,” Lucille said, to Tori’s surprise. “Not that far from you, actually.”

“Well that’s great news!” Tori said excitedly. “She would have to come down here, though, Rylee’s starting school and--”

“College? Really?” Lucille seemed impressed. “What’s her major?”

“High school,” Tori corrected. “We enrolled her in high school.”

“Okay, that’s a lot.” Lucille gave a low whistle. “And more than I want to get into, I’m sure you have it under control.”

“As much as I can,” Tori confirmed. “What can we do about the sister?”

“Well, I sent her an e-mail,” Lucille explained. “And…she responded. I managed to set up a meeting between you two, tomorrow morning; would that be okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” Tori said with both excitement and apprehension. “I’ll call into work and tell them I’ll be late, I guess, but yeah, right after I drop Rylee off.”

“At school?”

“Yeah,” Tori nodded. “It wasn’t really her first choice. Actually, she didn’t have a choice.”

“Anette didn’t tell me everything, but she did tell me about the choice you gave her. Risky, but I’m glad she went the right way.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tori said. “We’ll probably have to explain it to her sister.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand. See you tomorrow morning, Tori. We’ll aim for nine.”

They ended the call, and Tori leaned back heavily in her chair, considering the implications. They could bring Ariel here, but Tori would have to meet her first, in person. That had to be the condition. After thinking for a bit too long, she stood up and stretched, turning toward the door and pulling it open. At the end of the hallway she heard a commotion, frowned, and walked cautiously toward the kitchen. As she reached it, she was treated to a clear view of the living room where Fiona and Wendy were standing in awkward positions; Fiona leaned against the counter staring off into space, and Wendy stared out the window. Rylee, on the other hand, was sitting on the couch with her hand clamped over her nose and mouth.

“What the hell is going on?” Tori demanded as she speed-walked through the kitchen and stood in front of Rylee. “Rylee, what are you hiding? Pull your hand away from your mouth.”

“She’s just been sitting there the whole time,” Fiona said, snickering a little. Rylee echoed the snicker and then whimpered in pain.

“Rylee!” Tori stepped forward and pulled Rylee’s hands away from her face, gasping at the sight of blood smeared across the lower portion of her face, seemingly emanating from her nose. “Oh my god! What happened?”

Rylee shrugged.

“I don’t remember,” Rylee snickered again.

“I didn’t see anything,” Wendy said, still staring out the window.

“Oh my fuck,” Tori snapped angrily. “You two are adults, fucking adults. Rylee, go wash your face and come back out here. Holy shit. As for you two, rough housing? Seriously? Are you ten?”

“I was showing Rylee how to pillow fight,” Wendy said apologetically. “I didn’t expect her to fall down and hit the damn couch.”

“Pillow fights? Really?! Again, are you ten?” Tori demanded. Fiona burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, Tori,” Fiona could barely contain her laughter. “It’s been so serious for her, let her have some fun, why don’t you?”

“We got her two Nintendos!” Tori’s voice elevated. “I…wait, no, a Nintendo and a PlayStation? Whatever, she can have fun with that. She doesn’t need to maim herself!”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Fiona laughed again. “Next time we’ll give her a helmet.”

“Holy fucking Christ, you two. You know she’s in a cast, right?”

“Gives her an advantage if you ask me.” Wendy stuck her tongue out. Tori glared.

Rylee returned from the bathroom, her face cleaned but her left eye bloodshot. Tori redirected her glare from Wendy to Rylee as she shook her head in disgust.

“Okay, Rylee.” Tori tried to regain her composure. “Grab that bag from the kitchen counter. It’s your back to school outfit. Go put it on, I want to take some pictures.”


“Amber, this is bullshit, I can’t just sit here and wait!” Ariel paced the living room for the umpteenth time as Amber responded to text messages from her sprawled-out position on the couch. “They know where she is and won’t tell me!”

“I don’t think that’s how it went,” Amber reminded her. “Lucille said she’s with some family, right? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“How can you just sit there texting?” Ariel demanded. “Who are you even talking to?!”

“I’m on AIM.” She shrugged. “It’s a Hiptop, it gets Internet.”

“How can you afford that? You’re a waitress!”

“Uh, tips?” Amber looked to Ariel as if she’d asked the dumbest question on Earth. “Look at the size of my boobs, Ariel.”

“Okay, okay! Okay, you’re right, she said Rylee’s with some family and I guess they’re treating her okay?”

“That’s what Lucille’s second e-mail said.” Amber looked up from her phone and leaned toward Ariel, placing her elbow on the back of the couch to support her head. “Look, Ariel, you made that e-mail address two years ago and you’ve been checking it every day, like sometimes three or four times a day, and suddenly, you got something from Lucille. You know what that means, right?”

“That Lucille learned to use Outlook as part of her job training?”

“You texted that e-mail address to Rylee, and only Rylee. You told me she had all of your text messages hidden, you know that she took the phone with her. That means that someone found the phone, someone re-associated your phone number with the messages, and they got in touch with Lucille. No one would have done that if they wanted to hurt Rylee. They would have thrown the phone away or sold it or something. No, Ariel, they did this because they wanted to help Rylee, there’s no other explanation for it.”

“No other explanation,” Ariel said in shaky agreement, nodding her head. She continued to pace the living room, mulling over the situation in her head, looking over it from every single angle. Her pacing didn’t take her far in the tiny living room; a quick walk from the hallway entrance to the front door, past the kitchenette, and then back to the hallway. In the small living room area, a tiny flatscreen was playing some western with the volume muted. “No other explanation,” Ariel repeated, trying to reassure herself as she made the short journey again.

“Oh my god.” Amber tossed her phone onto the couch and stood up. She stretched and traipsed across the room toward the kitchenette. “I’m making you some cocoa to calm you the hell down.”

“I don’t need cocoa, I need answers!”

“And…you’ll get them,” Amber assured her; she opened one of the cupboards and pulled down a red mug along with a packet of powdered cocoa. “Tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Ariel confirmed. “We’re doing a Netmeeting thing in the morning.”

“So just relax until then,” Amber suggested. “You’ve waited this long, you can wait a little longer.”

“How can you be so calm?!” Ariel said, her panic growing as she watched Amber heat up the kettle. “This is Rylee! You love her as much as I do!”

“I do enjoy Rylee,” Amber agreed. “I definitely liked her a lot more when we pushed her out of the closet along with all of your clothes. Dressing her up was a blast.”

“I do miss that,” Ariel giggled, just slightly. “Oh! Lucille did say that this family she’s with is treating her as a girl. They’re not making her be a boy.”

“See? It’s not bad at all,” Amber said reassuringly. She faced Ariel and leaned against the kitchenette, pressing her palms against the counter to support herself.

“The bar is kinda low, Amber,” Ariel said with uncertainty. “Like, this entire time I’ve been worried that someone like, held her at gunpoint and kidnapped her.”

“Yeah, I doubt that happened.” Amber rolled her eyes and turned around as the kettle began to whistle. She poured the boiling water into the mug, stirred, and handed it to Ariel, who took it with both hands and sipped lightly before closing her eyes and joining Amber in leaning against the kitchenette.

“We have to bring her up here,” Ariel concluded. “She’s in Ohio or something.”

“You going to keep her under your bed?” Amber teased.

“We’ll get a bigger place, she can sleep on the floor of my room or something.”

“We can’t afford a bigger place,” Amber pointed out; Ariel immediately deflated. “And she’s with some family, right? She probably has her own room and everything. Look, it sounds like she’s fine. She probably doesn’t need to be rescued.”

“I hope you’re right.” Ariel nodded profusely and stepped away again “I hope she’s happy, and healthy, and…I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

“Come on,” Amber said, taking the cup from Ariel’s hands and then gently taking her arm. “We’re going outside.”

“Wait, why?” Ariel asked as Amber pulled her toward the door.

“Because you need some fresh air!” Amber threw open the front door and pulled Ariel onto the balcony; the Fall air hit her like a brick wall as she once again realized just how stuffy their tiny apartment was.

The small balcony gave way to a huge, beautiful view of the old railroad tracks, train station, and the gravel Frog Island parking lot below; Ariel leaned against the railing and sucked in a breath of fresh air, closing her eyes and then taking deep breaths to calm her nerves.

“Think about it,” Amber advised her. “Look at where we are; this is a super nice place, we have jobs, your parents are nowhere around, and your sister is off living with some family somewhere. Maybe nothing happened to her after all! There’s nothing to be worried about right now!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Ariel exhaled heavily again and wiped newly formed sweat from her brow. “It’s just a lot. We’ve been waiting for two years, and it’s so…close!”

“Worrying about it won’t get you anywhere.” Amber took her by the arm again. “Come on.”

“What? Where?”

They descended three flights of stairs and walked across the blacktop lot, taking a quick right down the alley between Depot Town’s historic buildings until they stood on the sidewalk amidst a crowd of people. It was loud, really loud; people conversing, shouting, music blaring, dancing, all of it was happening in front of them.

“Come on,” Amber shouted to her over the noise of the crowd. “They’re not letting the summer go without a bang, neither should we!”

Ariel wanted to protest, but her arguments melted seamlessly into the roar of the crowd. Amber led her off the sidewalk and into the crosswalk, across the street toward that pizza place. They merged into another crowd, pushing past a swathe of bodies until they reached a beer keg that had been set up near the back of the courtyard by the railroad tracks.

“We’re not even twenty-one!” Ariel shouted to Amber. “This isn’t legal!”

“This keg being here is illegal!” Amber shouted back. “Come on, let’s have some fun!”

Amongst the dizzying noise and motions of the crowd, Ariel felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she found Lucas, the guy that Amber had tried to introduce her to at the coffee shop. She shot a glare to Amber, who shrugged and mouthed that she didn’t invite him.

“Hi!” Lucas shouted. “I wanted to apologize for earlier! I think we got off on the wrong foot!”

“The wrong what?!” Ariel cupped a hand over her ear, and Lucas repeated his statement.

“I was wondering if…”

“I still have baggage, you know!” Ariel told him. He shrugged.

“So do I!”

For a few brief moments, they forgot about Rylee, their troubles, and the rest of the world as they bid the summer farewell. For the moment, everything could wait.

***

“Rylee,” Tori said softly, laying a hand on Rylee’s shoulders. She jolted awake almost instantly, her body immediately tensing and her eyes wide with momentary fear until she realized that it was Tori. Rylee’s lips curled into a smile as she looked up at her sister and stretched; she pulled the blanket aside and raised herself into a sitting position, her toes scrunching the carpet beneath her feet as Tori stepped back. “You’ll need a shower. Do you need help getting ready?”

Rylee nodded, her eyes heavy as she stood and immediately began to fixate on a spot on the wall that only she could see. Tori waved a hand in front of her face and smiled at her as she caught her attention.

“Stay with me, sweetie,” Tori said softly. She’d become well versed in how to wake Rylee up; the girl hated being tapped, especially on the feet. Tori had found that it was not only irritating to her new younger sister, but it could be outright detrimental for reasons that she couldn’t quite grasp. “You’re going to need a quick shower and I’ll set your outfit in the bathroom.”

Rylee nodded again and began to stumble toward the bathroom. Behind her, Tori grabbed her back-to-school outfit, which consisted of a dark pink top, a blue jacket, and a jean skirt.

She left the bedroom and entered the bathroom, finally feeling a bit more awake as she started the shower and removed her pajamas. Dropping them on the floor beside the tub, she walked to the sink and grabbed a plastic grocery bag from the cabinet beneath. It took her a few seconds to wrap her cast and then she proceeded to shower.

It was a fast shower; Rylee shampooed and conditioned her newly brunette hair, and then did her best to wash her body in spite of the cast. As she finished that task, she took a moment to examine her body, running a hand over her chest and then her arms, eyes closed, feeling for anything resembling stubble. She did the same to her face and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt nothing. Still, as soon as she exited the shower, she stood still in front of a full-length mirror scrutinizing her body.

The hormones were doing their work, it seemed; she rubbed her free hand against her chest and felt the start of a budding breast, and then examined the rest of her body. She was gaining curves, it seemed, especially near her waist, but still not quite enough for her to give up the loose clothing or jackets. Fortunately, Tori’s ‘back-to-school outfit’ had included a jacket, and it had been left on the vanity sink while she’d been preoccupied in the shower.

After her self-inspection, she toweled herself off, then, with some difficulty, pulled the skirt on. To her utter disappointment, there was a white cotton training bra sitting on the vanity atop the dark pink top. She cursed under her breath and called out for Tori, who immediately walked in, grabbed the bra and slid it over Rylee’s arms.

“There’s no easy way to do this,” Tori said apologetically. “Even a sports bra would kind of suck for you right now.”

“I could go without a bra,” Rylee suggested.

“Not likely.” Tori stepped around her and straightened the cups, ensuring Rylee’s tiny breasts were covered. She then reached beneath the pile of clothing and pulled out a pair of small silicone breast inserts. Rylee looked to her questioningly, but didn’t interfere as Tori slid them into the cups of the bra. “People notice things like this,” she explained.

It took Rylee a full ten minutes to dry and straighten her hair, with Tori stepping in to make sure that the back was equally straightened. Fully dressed, Rylee looked at herself in the mirror again; she’d had to roll the left sleeve of the jacket up to allow for the cast, and Tori had in fact suggested that she just not wear it, but actually exposing the shape of her body wasn’t a route that Rylee planned on taking.

“Okay.” Tori gave Rylee a quick pat on the shoulder. “Can you do your makeup on your own?”

Rylee nodded. “Yeah, I can do that one-handed.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.” Rylee nodded and smiled at her sister, turning to walk back to her room.

Fifteen minutes later, Rylee emerged from her room and walked into the kitchen, fully dressed, and took a seat at the kitchen table, where Anette was already in the process of serving up bacon and eggs. Tori poured Rylee a glass of orange juice from a cardboard Minute Maid carton and took a seat in the chair across from her.

“Okay,” Tori said, throwing a quick glance at the clock. 5:52 AM. They still had plenty of time. “What’s the plan today?”

“Go to school.” Rylee shot Tori a cheeky grin as she stuffed a fork-full of eggs into her mouth. Anette snorted; Tori gave her a hardened glare.

“Rylee,” Tori said with a hint of warning that made Rylee immediately straighten up.

“Um…stay with Kelly, don’t do anything dumb, and listen to the teachers,” Rylee said quickly. As she spoke, the existential dread began to set in. She was going to school; she hadn’t been for the last two years, and to be honest, she’d thought she was done with it. Running away from home in your sophomore year tends to stunt one’s education, but Tori had found a way to make it happen. She and Anette has even gone so far as to make sure that Rylee had friends to keep her safe. So much thought had been put into this, and it all depended on Rylee behaving as expected. She didn’t trust herself.

“Rylee,” Tori said, commanding her little sister’s full attention. “This is scary, I know. The first day of school is scary for anyone, but it has to be terrifying for you. I need you to understand that this is an opportunity. I don’t mean for education. Shit, if we wanted education I’d just send you to get your GED. This is to get you the social experiences you missed out on, stuff that you never would have gotten living with your parents. Look, Rylee sweetie, you’re not going to be the most popular girl in school, and you can’t just…make friends with everyone. You have a lot to hide, and a lot to be afraid of, but you’ll have people there to protect you, and you’ll be doing the things a young girl should be doing.”

“How many times did you imagine being a girl at school, Rylee?” Anette added, taking a sip of her morning coffee and watching Rylee carefully as she wrapped her fingers around the handle of the mug.

Rylee stopped eating and looked at her, suddenly deep in thought. Anette wasn’t wrong; Rylee had spent so much time at school watching the other girls; not because she was attracted to them, but because she imagined being them. Studying their ethereal movements, the way they talked, the way they laughed, the way their skirts effortlessly and naturally flowed from their perfectly formed bodies. And she knew that she could never be them. She had sat up night after night imagining them, poring over yearbook photos, her chest aching as she reached mentally for a dream that could never possibly manifest. The pain, fear, and longing had built up inside her, and maybe it hadn’t broken her, but it had contributed to her eventual breakdown. All of it had come to a head, triggering an invisible explosion inside her, one that only she could feel. The pieces of her had been flung to the distant corners of her psyche, the dull pain behind her eyes suddenly manifesting as her reality as her hopes and dreams faded. The pain had been real, the hopelessness had been real, and yet somehow, Tori had put her back together.

“Thank you,” Rylee whispered. Tori nodded to her, smiling softly. “I’m scared. Like really scared, but…I…thank you.” Rylee’s voice caught in her throat as she found herself at a loss for words.

“You’re gonna be fine, sweetie,” Tori reassured her for the millionth time since they’d established this course of action. “Just stick to the plan.”

With breakfast finished, Rylee said an emotional goodbye to Anette, and moments later she was in the passenger seat of Tori’s car.

It was her first day of school.

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Comments

I almost spat my coffee...

... When I read this bit.

“The bar is kinda low, Amber,” Ariel said with uncertainty. “Like, this entire time I’ve been worried that someone like, held her at gunpoint and kidnapped her.”

So glad we are finally going to see the sister's reunion.

First Chapter!

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Rylee, so excited that you have the sequel underway! This is a terrific beginning, and would even be a fine jumping-off point for someone who hasn’t read Dear Rylee. Everything necessary to understand the story is there, and it is slipped in organically so as not to feel forced.

The characters are as vivid as ever. There are lots of cross-currents that create interesting avenues for development. Amber and Ariel don’t seem to be on the same emotional wavelength anymore, if they ever were. Tori — the magnificent Tori! — is clearly conflicted, not knowing how Rylee reconnecting with Ariel will disrupt the family dynamic she has been trying so hard to build. And Rylee (well, you, but you’ve said this part is fictional) is struggling with fear and longing about being, finally, a school girl. So much to digest.

Finally, the dialogue, as always, is marvelous. My personal favorite in this chapter is Fiona’s quip about there being versions of Rylee’s adoption story that involve being kidnapped at gun point: “Well, not in this one.”

Emma

I enjoyed the first of the new part

Angharad's picture

Ariel seems to have changed and has to realise that she can't just take Rylee away, she is settled and recovering so Ariel has to do what's in Rylee's best interests, although that is going to be so hard for her.

Angharad

I continue to impressed

by your writing skills. If you, like Rylee, were non-verbal in your early years it is an even greater accomplishment. I hope that it is safe for you to send a link to this work to the teachers who helped in that growth.

How Unlikely

joannebarbarella's picture

If not actually unbelievable, holding someone at gunpoint before kidnapping them!

The reunion of Ariel and Rylee promises to be "interesting".

Good start

Patricia Marie Allen's picture

I'm glad to see the blending of the stories and that Ariel really did make it. In "Dear Rylee" the last we knew of her was she had been hit by her father and seemed to be in line for major beating.

This is much more of a blended story than I was expecting. Frankly, I had a hard time getting into because I lacked the imagination to see how you could do something with Ariel's story that would catch my interest. I'm glad that I persevered because after a few paragraphs you proved yourself capable of doing just that. I can't wait for more.

Hugs
Patricia

Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt

I am SOOO glad

That I was not drinking something the moment that I read {Ariel said with uncertainty. “Like, this entire time I’ve been worried that someone like, held her at gunpoint and kidnapped her.”
“Yeah, I doubt that happened.” Amber rolled her eyes and turned around as the kettle began to whistle.} I actually choked when I read that!

Oh my god, Rylee. You just had to throw that in, didn't you? LOL

I can't wait to read about the upcoming NetMeeting, or whatever it is, in the next chapter!

- Leona

I am so happy so see Rylee’s story continued…

I took the epistolary letter that ended the first story as a good to this story arc, and was sad to not get to get to see Rylee andAriel re-United. That said, I deeply enjoyed the story, and thought the letter was a good way and a time to wind it up - the major conflicts are resolved, and we have a firm declaration that Tori and Rylee will heal each other, and what’s left is a long slow battle with old injuries, but that is headed in the right direction.