“The cat will stay in visual range,” she said quickly, her voice a pleasant tinkling as if she was more accustomed to singing soprano thanspeaking normally. “We’ll see to it that she has the royal treatment as well.”
"I—" I hesitated, clutching Josie tighter.
"Please," the woman's voice remained musical, but there was a firmness beneath it. "Solely for your situation, we have created a special pet grooming station.” She half turned her body, lifting a hand to point behind me. Using the mirror, I checked it out. A makeshift grooming station was set up and two people waited, poised with brushes and bows.
When I didn’t seem convinced, the woman wanting Josie persisted. “Miss Fortune, your contract addendum clearly states the pet must stay with you. If she does not, then The Eros Institute is in breech. Additionally, our employment rules strictly prohibit us from doing anything that may risk a client’s product. Our company would suffer a huge monetary loss, and we would lose our jobs. Do you think that we would risk so much?”
It made sense.
But that was the issue lately.
They found a way to make it seem logical, even when it was all… a huge fucking ploy to kidnap people.
“Fine,” I finally gave in, because what was the alternative? “If I look into this mirror and I don’t see her, then I’m going to call your bluff on that breach of contract.”
"Of course," the woman nodded, gently taking Josie from my arms. It took every ounce of my willpower to let this stranger walk away with the only family I had left. I had to close my eyes, so I didn’t watch Josie traveling further away.
When I had the courage to part my lashes and look in the mirror seconds later, I watched anxiously as someone began brushing her methodically while another person presented her with a small white dish. Josie nearly pounced on the plate, lapping up what I thought might be milk.
"Traitor," I muttered when she lifted her face, little beard dripping with liquid, and meowed appreciatively.
I can’t explain what happened next.
Time seemed to both speed up and slow down.
I was surrounded by a flurry of activity.
I was asked to stand up and move over to a small round platform. When I was in position, a Beta lifted a strange handheld device that emitted a soft blue light. She ran it over my skin in slow, sweeping motions. Wherever the light touched, my body tingled. I watched in wonder as long-healed scars and new imperfections magically seemed to melt away. When the robe became an obstacle, I was asked to remove it. There were so many people here, far more than the day they’d submitted me to a physical exam.
“Ah, I apologize.” the wand-wielding Beta clocked my discomfort and made quick work of pulling a curtain around me. “An oversight.” She offered before asking me, once again, to de-robe.
My brain was on overload, I hadn’t even seen the metal railing on the ceiling, or the curtain clumped together waiting to be extended.
Still feeling nervous, I untied the double knot and dropped the robe. It pooled around my feet.
When she asked me to raise my arms, my breasts lifted just enough that the cat collar fell to the ground with a thud. I panicked, crouching down to snap it up quickly. I clutched it in my hand, staring at the Beta with wild, fearful eyes. I didn’t want her to take it. I wouldn’t let them take it.
The Beta stood there for a moment, ingesting what had just happened, but then she seemed to decide it wasn’t her problem.
She finished her work, rewinding time and erasing all the proof that I’d struggled for nearly two years homeless. The tiny scar on my eyebrow, left behind from a jagged aluminum can lid used as a weapon by a man who’d wanted my spot in the park, was gone. The jagged, torn line across my left thigh from when I’d fallen into a dumpster and hit a large chunk of broken window glass didn’t exist anymore. I looked like the Omega princess again. If I closed my eyes, if I wished really hard, could the tragedy in my past disappear too? Could I have my family back?
It didn’t work that way.
I pushed the collar back under my breast, digging it up into the fold roughly and begging it to stay put. Then I wrapped the robe around my body again.
Beatification took hours.
Until they all said I was walking perfection.
They’d placed a floor length mirror in front of me. It almost tricked me into forgetting I was ever destitute. My collar bones were still too pronounced—they couldn’t magically fix how thin I was—and my cheekbones were too sharp, to carved inward. Yet otherwise I truly seemed magazine worthy.How could this girl, with perfect skin and hair, be homeless?
Mirrors didn’t lie.
Beta Love hadn’t lied either. The dress was stunning. A waterfall of champagne satin with spaghetti straps and a thigh high split. The collar had threatened to escape a second time when they’d been dressing me, but I’d managed to inconspicuously keep it in place. The shoes were dainty sandals yet again, matched to the gown. I didn’t have to worry if they’d fall apart on the streets though. I was never going back to a life of fighting for a box in an underpass and scrounging for discard food behind restaurants.
I was never going back…
But I wasn’t sure where I was going would be any better.
