I pull it apart piece by piece, laying each item on the counter with reverent care. Before long, I’m staring down at black tactical pants with reinforced knees, a long-sleeved shirt with its stiff collar, and a heavy jacket with a missing Enforcer insignia indicating rank. Lachlan once explained it’s a common practice for him and the other messengers to remove their insignias when traveling between provinces—something about discourse amongst officers.
Remarkable system we have if Enforcers from different provinces cannot even work together like adults.
I glance out the window, my face pinching at the slightest change in tint, indicating dawn is quickly approaching. I slide on the uniform, the fabric much heavier than I expected. The boots are unwieldy on my feet, strange as I’m certain Lachlan and I are the same size. But that’s not what gives me pause—no, it’s the smell. The faint notes of my brother; the soap he washeswith, the slight musk that clings to his clothes. It’s comforting and unsettling at the same time.
At least I’ll have something familiar with me out there, even if it is just a scent.
I’m struck by yet another wave of panic as I button the jacket.What are you doing, Cassia?I’ve never even left our house, and now I’m planning to join the most dangerous organization in Dascenia? I’m going to get caught. Then killed.
I’m going to get my entire family killed.
“Stop being a baby,” I whisper-shout to my reflection, my voice barely audible. “Just do it. This is what you’ve always wanted and prayed for.”
My lungs suck in a shaky breath as I reach for the scissors I’d placed in the pack, my fingers trembling at the sight.
This is going to be the most difficult part. My hair has been with me my entire life. One of the few things that’s truly mine, that I have complete control over. The one thing that really separates me from Lachlan and allows me to be an actual person in my secluded, hidden world.
Something hot skims my cheek—I’m crying.
It’s just hair, I tell myself.It will grow back.
It’s not just hair, though…it’s the last piece of Cassia I’m about to cut away. After this, I will be Lachlan. I will be a man. An Enforcer trained to do the bidding of the Syndicate, working to suppress the very things I unashamedly hold close to my heart: autonomy. Freedom. Equality.
Such notions will not do for the Syndicate if I leave this house.
They want obedience. Submission. A quiet, faceless soldier who never questions why the world was built to keep their women caged.
But I was never meant to be quiet.
And I sure as hell was never meant to stay in a cage.
Blowing out the last bit of air coursing through my body, my eyelids flutter closed as I make the first cut.
The sound of the blades slicing through each strand is deafening in the small bathroom. Weight falls from my head in thick chunks, tickling my senses as they tumble down. Something shifts in my chest—not pain, but a peculiar lightness. I open my eyes and stare at the long tress in my hand, then at my reflection.
The person looking back at me is already different. Half my hair still hangs to my waist, but the other half is jagged and short, barely brushing the underside of one shoulder. It’s wild and unfinished.
Caught between identities.
Will it be difficult to keep Cassia alive while I live as Lachlan?
The next cut comes faster, almost eager. My lips twitch as more hair falls across the sink and onto the floor, covering my feet. When it’s done, my breathing is hard and ragged.
I look different. Not quite like my brother, but no longer like myself either. The face staring back at me is a stranger’s—sharp featured, hollow-eyed from lack of sleep, with wild eyes that drip with a strange sort of excitement.
I allow myself a few more seconds before gathering the fallen hair, carefully wrapping it in a towel. I’ll need to dispose the evidence of my transformation where my family won’t immediately find it.
After tying the remaining locks into a tight bun at the nape of my neck, I tuck several extra ties into my pack. My heart skips as I reach for the final piece of my disguise: the mask.
The Enforcer mask is made of a rigid synthetic material, black and featureless except for where the eyes are shown. It covers the entire face, from forehead to chin, wrapping around to secure at the back of the head.
Faceless, indeed.
My fingers brush across the smooth surface with open disdain. This is the point of no return. Once I put on this mask and step outside the front door, I cannot come back. Not as Cassia. Perhaps not at all.
With trembling hands, I lift it to my face and slide it into place.
The transformation is immediate and jarring. The world narrows to what’s observable through the slit, while my breathing is oddly loud inside the enclosed space, creating a warm and damp environment. The hardened material presses against my skin, uncomfortable but not painful. The material is unyielding, forcing my face into neutrality.
