The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

“Problem solved, then,” Morgan said under her breath as she turned toward the door. “SOMEONE GET MY FIANCE IN HERE!”

There was a rustle behind one of the curtains, and a sky-blue warden stepped out from the alcove behind it. “Yes, my qu—”

“Ignore that order,” I said with a laugh. I knew I couldn’t actually order her, but there was a quick flicker of relief on the warden’s face, and she hesitated, looking at Morgan. “You’re not supposed to see him before the wedding—you’ll piss off the chamberlain lady.”

“Oh God,” Morgan said with a shudder. “She’s right, cancel that order. I’ll just go to him!”

“You can’t,” Amber said in exasperation. “They’ve only just started letting the public in. The wedding’s not for another hour!”

Morgan narrowed her eyes at us, her jaw set at a mutinous angle. “I’m the damn queen,” she snarled. “And it’s my damn wedding. They’ll get over it.”

Her spine straightened as she spoke, uncurling and becoming rigid. Unyielding. Commanding.

I looked at Amber and shook my head. “Can you let the chamberlain know the wedding has been moved up by fifty-five minutes? Tell the guards up top to use the Patrian wardens with us to help search bags for weapons, but get the public down here in a hurry.”

Amber gave me a dry smile. “Think you can keep her here for five minutes?”

“We need to double check her makeup is perfect. That’ll be at least a few minutes.”

“Why?” gasped Morgan, turning around toward the mirror. “Did you see something wrong with it?”

I gave Amber a pointed look, and nodded.

“I’ll relay the orders,” she said as she moved down the corridor. Turning to Morgan, I coaxed her into a sitting position.

“Calm down,” I urged her. “And focus on something else.”

“Like your new friend there?” she asked, her eyes flicking to Josefine.

“Old friend,” I said, carefully reapplying some of her makeup. “We were at Merrymount together.”

“The work facility?” she asked, blinking in surprise. “You met her there?”

“She did, but she wasn’t there long. I’m surprised she remembers me, to be honest.” Josefine’s voice ended on a diminished note, and I turned toward her.

“I could never forget you, Josefine. You were kind to me in a place where kindness didn’t exist. It meant more than you could possibly know.”

“But it’s my fault,” she blurted suddenly. “It’s my fault you went after Dina! That you… That you… killed her.”

“What?” I asked, my eyes widening in surprise. “No it’s not.”

“It is! I should’ve been braver! I should’ve fought Dina harder when she came in. If I had, maybe she would’ve run away, or—”

“Or she would’ve killed you,” I exclaimed loudly, cutting her off. “Her braces were removable, Josefine. She turned them into a weapon and tried to use them against me. That’s why I—Why she died. She tried to kill me. I killed her first.”

“It was self-defense,” Morgan said softly, and I shook my head.

“No, it wasn’t,” I breathed sadly. “I went into her room looking for a fight. I wanted to hurt her—and all she’d done was tear up Tim’s photo. In retrospect… that seems a very petty reason for someone to die.”

“Violet…” Morgan trailed off, her hand reaching out and taking mine. “It’s over now. There’s nothing you can do but find some way to move on. You saved our worlds—we are fundamentally changed in extraordinary and unprecedented ways. You’ve done great and amazing things for the people here.”

I smiled. Morgan had misunderstood my melancholy over Dina’s death. I just didn’t dismiss it easily. I carried the guilt of that memory within me so it could temper my anger, hone it and contain it, until I was certain it was pointed in the right direction.

“I’m fine,” I told her. “And it’s your wedding. Josefine, you didn’t do anything wrong, and you aren’t responsible for any of this. Morgan, your soon-to-be-husband has probably been rushed to get ready and is feeling pretty uncertain. Shall we?”

Morgan smiled and nodded. I helped her stand up and held her train as we moved over to the door.

“You should go find your parents now,” I whispered to Josefine. “I’ll make sure you have an invitation to the reception. I want to see more of you, especially if your family is moving to Patrus.”

“Of course,” she breathed. “I’ll let them know!” She turned to run off, and then paused, turning back. “You also did great and amazing things for the boys,” she added, and it took me a minute to put the comment into context. By the time I had, she had already disappeared, and I smiled at the sound of her feet carrying down the tunnel.

“You have a fan,” Morgan said as she ducked under the archway. “And she’s right, you know. The boys are all thriving now.”

She wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t give herself or Viggo enough credit. If anything, the project was their brain child; I was just one of the only people who had enough free time to oversee it and make Viggo’s ideas reality. It made me happy to shoulder the load, not only for him, but so that I could spend time helping them. The program at the school we’d established in a secluded area in the Patrian farmlands included therapy, education, medication, gene therapy for the more extreme cases… even outpatient counseling and a housing and foster family program—anything the boys might need to start building lives from the wreckage Desmond and Elena’s plans had left for them.

Morgan’s scientists had discovered a number of things from combing through Mr. Jenks’ research—one of the biggest ones directly affected Morgan and Tim both, a welcome relief that had come as a complete shock to the two of them. They’d been able to uncover the reasons that they, and some of the other boys as well, were so sensitive to touch, and a drug to deal with the problem had been developed shortly afterward. Now both of them could experience human contact in a way that had been