"A baby," I repeat numbly.
"We've been discussing it for months, and we finally decided the timing is right. With my research funding secured and David's promotion confirmed, we're in a perfect position to start our family." Sarah's voice grows soft with happiness. "We've already started trying. David is so excited about the possibility of passing on his academic legacy."
Academic legacy. With my sister. The woman he chose over me because I wasn't experienced enough, wasn't mature enough, wasn't enough of anything that mattered.
"That's... wonderful," I manage, though the word tastes like ash.
"I know it might be awkward, given your history with David, but I hope you can be happy for us. We both care about you, Maya. We want you to find the same kind of happiness we've found together."
Happiness. Like what they have—built on the foundation of my humiliation—is something I should aspire to rather than something that destroyed my ability to trust anyone who claims to want me.
"Of course," I say, standing on unsteady legs. "I should let you get back to work."
"Maya, wait." Sarah rises as well, moving around the desk with obvious concern. "Are you sure you're alright? You look pale."
"I'm fine. Just tired. It's been a long day."
"About the symposium invitation—you really should go. This could change everything for you. Open doors you've only dreamed of."
"Right. Doors." I clutch the invitation like a lifeline. "I should probably start preparing my presentation."
"Maya." Sarah catches my arm as I turn to leave, her touch gentle but firm. "I know this is complicated. David and me, the baby we're hoping for... But you deserve your own happiness. Your own success. Don't let our choices hold you back from taking risks that could transform your life."
Transform your life. The words echo in my head as I walk back to my dormitory, each step feeling like I'm moving through quicksand. Sarah and David are trying for a baby. Building the life together that I'd stupidly thought might include me someday. Creating something beautiful and permanent while I sit alone in my laboratory, documenting cellular structures that no one cares about.
But the Vine Court Academy cares. They want my research specifically. They think it's groundbreaking, valuable, worth presenting to the most prestigious minds in fertility science.
That night, I draft my acceptance letter three times before I'm satisfied with the tone. Professional but not distant. Grateful but not desperate. The words of someone who deserves the recognition she's receiving rather than someone shocked that anyone noticed her at all.
The week passes in a blur of preparation. I rehearse my presentation until I could deliver it in my sleep, research the academy's faculty and their areas of expertise, pack and repack my small travel bag with everything I own that might be appropriate for such a prestigious gathering.
And I try not to think about Sarah and David. Try not to picture them at home together, talking about names and nurseries and all the ways their child will be brilliant like bothits parents. Try not to remember how David once told me I wasn't ready for the kind of mature relationship he needed, while apparently I was the only thing standing between him and starting a family with my sister.
By the time I'm standing on the platform at Grand Central Station, I'm desperate enough for validation that I'd probably accept an invitation to present my research in hell if it meant someone valued what I had to offer.
The steam engine waiting at Platform Nine looks like something from a fairy tale—sleek black metal polished to mirror brightness, brass fittings that gleam like jewelry. Elegant script along the side reads "Vine Court Express" in the same gold lettering as my invitation.
"Dr. Nakamura?" A porter in an immaculate green uniform approaches with a respectful bow. "Welcome aboard. Your compartment is prepared."
My compartment. Not shared seating, but my own private space on what's clearly the most luxurious train I've ever seen. The porter takes my travel bag with white-gloved hands, leading me through corridors lined with polished wood and crystal fixtures.
The compartment is larger than my entire dormitory room, with a plush seat by the window, a writing desk, and fresh flowers in a crystal vase. The flowers shouldn't exist—roses and jasmine blooming together in November, their scent filling the space with sweetness that makes my head spin.
As the train pulls away from the station, I watch the city fade into countryside that defies every law of nature I understand. Rolling hills stay summer-green despite the late season. Rivers sparkle like liquid diamonds. Trees grow larger than should be possible, their branches heavy with fruit that gleams like stained glass.
The deeper we travel into Fae territories, the more impossible everything becomes. This isn't enhancement—this is transformation on a scale that makes my laboratory work seem like child's finger painting.
By the time we reach a station that looks carved from living wood, I'm practically vibrating with excitement and terror in equal measure. The platform is crowded with the most beautiful people I've ever seen—Fae with skin that glows from within, hair that moves like water, eyes that reflect light like cut gems.
And they're all here for the same reason I am. Science. Discovery. The pursuit of knowledge that could reshape the world.
"Dr. Nakamura!" A woman approaches with a smile that could power the entire train. She's ethereally lovely, with silver hair braided with living vines and skin that has a faint green undertone. "I'm Professor Elvinia, your symposium coordinator. Welcome to the Vine Court Academy."
She takes my hands in greeting, and I gasp at the contact. Her skin tingles with magic, sending little sparks up my arms that make me suddenly hyperaware of everything—the scent of flowers in the air, the sound of fountains somewhere nearby, the way the late afternoon light seems to dance rather than simply shine.
The academy isn't a building—it's a living miracle. Gothic spires rise from the earth like they grew rather than were built, their stone walls covered in flowering vines that bloom in impossible profusion. The air itself feels different, thick with magic that makes my skin tingle and my heart race with each breath.
Professor Elvinia shows me to my quarters in the Scholar's Wing—rooms more luxurious than anything I've ever imagined, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking gardens that belong in dreams. When I sink into the marble bath that fills withmagically heated water, I let myself believe for the first time that maybe I really do deserve to be here.
