The next days are a blur.

You have to find a clinic that’s trustworthy. Get rid of the motorbike is a hassle, but a set of new clothes emphasizing the bad girl persona you now rock turn out to help tremendously with the negotiating. Well, that, and the broken noses of two fools who decided to cope a feel of the young lady.

Fascinating how carrying a gun, having martial arts knowledge, and being ready to kill gives you an edge. Not to mention having grown a higher tolerance for physical and psychological pain than the average teen over those harrowing last few days.

You stay at a relatively shady inn, few questions asked. Mostly “how will you pay”. Cash. First week upfront. Then another, and another. Settling in that temporary life of trying to find jobs you can do with no papers and no useful knowledge is hard. Waitressing is exhausting, but it brings a little money, which helps reduce the drain on your cash reserve.

You wonder how you’ll fix the issue of your ID… and driving license. However, you focus on safety and the urgent issue of the fœtal growth within you.

Finding a clinic turns out to be easier than you expected. Your Spanish is decent (that crush you had a few years ago for Alexandria, the gorgeous daughter of the gunshop’s owner, turns out to have been more than just the reason you passed that exam!) and talking to the motel’s cleaner crew yields sisterly advice and directions to a place where young ladies lacking proper paperwork can get the required medical help.

You realize you’d never even known these places existed… you’re slightly ashamed to be confronted with how little you knew a month before, and how much you probably will learn in the years to come.

When you finally walk outside of the clinic, healthy, your problem taken care of, you feel weird. It’s like a massive weight just lifted from your shoulders, and yet some part of your mind wonders what could have been. The rational person in you silences the foolish musings, and this is the end of it. You will not have crazy culpability or regrets arise from cancelling a pregnancy that was **** on you… on top of your very person being remade into someone else!

You end up sleeping early, but early morning, you’re waken up by the room’s landline. It’s a voice you came to dread. Yet it’s not confrontational at all, but rather warm and joyous.

“- Hey Jane! How are you today? Rise and shine, beautiful! The world belongs to you!”

You don’t know what to respond to such unexpected words. The voice doesn’t let the silence grow awkward.

“ Seriously! I mean it! You have been the most entertaining player I’ve seen in decades. You deserve a reward for the pleasure you gave me… and others. Maybe sone compensation too. I will admit, I never expected your family to be the incredible jerks they proved to be. But neither did you, right?”

You still don’t have a clue what you are meant to respond… but the voice chuckles, unphased.

“Never mind me! Here’s the deal I am offering you. You may go back to your previous life. The last few weeks will be erased from everyone else’s memory. Alternatively, you may truly become Jane. You will have hardworking parents, a lovey sister and a truly great brother helping you through college. You may pick from a few other options too! Should I tell you more?”