She stood and gestured for me to take the chair. “All eyes on the next ones, like Switzerland.”
I wracked my brain, information about the Swiss democracyburied somewhere in there. “I’ll go ahead and pretend I understand the reference?”
Her sigh was warranted. “Annual presidential election. Federal Council. Their democracy is much different than ours.” She opened the door, holding it for someone approaching. “Worldwide, who knows what Soulmail will do?”
“You might want to consider a laser treatment soon,” the stand-in artist said, sponging my undereyes. I must’ve made a face, because she clucked her tongue. “Oh, don’t do that. You’ll get more wrinkles.”
I worked over how to respond to that when Samantha came banging into the prep room. “Turbo speed,” she ordered.
The makeup artist combed my eyebrows, her pace frantic.
“Don’t poke her eye.” Samantha frowned.
I sighed. “What’s up?”
“It’s Soulmail.” Samantha’s eyes flamed with something I couldn’t identify. “They’re out.”
I straightened. “What do you mean?”
“New round arrived earlier than anticipated. They weren’t expected for another week.”
“Three days,” I said. “They’re out? Now? Are you sure?”
“As of about ten minutes ago.” Samantha’s nod was a jerk.
“But it’s not three in the morning. That’s when they always come out.”Supposed to. Always. We had already gotten used to this unknowable, now known.
“It’s not,” Samantha said. “Something must be changing. Oh, and something else, while I have you.” She dropped a phone into my hand, and I raised it to eye-level. QUEENS WOMAN VIOLATES RESTRAINING ORDER, IS MURDERED BY SOULMAIL EX, the screen read.
I fisted my hand, pressed it to my throat. “First, that’s—ugh. How horrible. And second, that headline is a lesson in victim-blaming.”
“Please don’t cry,” the makeup artist said.
“Olivia’s human. She can cry if she needs to,” Samantha snapped. She’d lost her no-nonsense resting face, trouble slipping over her features. She put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “And you’re right on both accounts.”
“It’s awful to think about the people whose soulmates are like that guy.” I gestured to the screen. If your soulmate was a bad person—real evil, or even one who straddled the dicey side of complexity—addressing that with grace seemed impossible. I traced circles on the inside of my wrist, wondering if I was supposed to be inferring something bigger from this, if a person’s soulmate was meant to be indicative of their own character. Wasn’t the mere thought of that also maybe some sort of victim blaming? “It’s just so awful,” I said finally.
“Live in five,” a PA shouted from the hallway. “Internet is buzzing about these early drops, everyone.”
“It gets worse.” Sam braced her hands on her hips. “This isn’t the first time. It’s happening everywhere. New York State’s had three restraining order violations that have resulted in attempted murder.”
A quiet, desperate wish to change the world tingled in my fingertips. I started mentally constructing social media posts in my head. “So many of these experts claim Soulmails bring peace and harmony, but look where we are.”
“Right, which is why I’m telling you all this. We’ve been asked to have you step in for a ‘The More You Know’ PSA.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Me? Aren’t those an NBC Universal operation?” I could hear the old music in my head, see the iconic shooting star with its rainbow tail.
Samantha nodded. “The government is launching a new resources site to help people whose Soulmail-mates are dangerous, and they need a PSA to spread awareness.”
The makeup artist stepped back and sighed. “I think this isthe best I can do with the time I have.” She twisted her mouth. “You really should sleep more. Just to lighten the dark circles under your eyes. That’s all.”
“You look great,” Samantha said before I could open my mouth to ask if I looked okay. “Same as always.”
Within minutes, Josef and I walked together to the news desk. His phone chimed, and he grimly switched it to silent.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, darling. It’s just that I’m avoiding my phone, because I’m certain I have a message I don’t want to look at.”
