Doctors

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Johnson X-3 held out a shirt for me to put on. Unlike his predecessors, Johnson's silicone skin made him look almost human, and his pressure sensors had been corrected, so he was less likely to accidentally choke his master to death or crush their bones.

Fully buttoned, the plaid shirt ended near my knees.

"Water the plants," I told him.

Johnson bowed, straightened, smoothed the folds of his dress shirt and went off to find the watering can. I sighed. Confusion clouded my mind, partly because of the unfamiliar emotions that filled my chest and partly because I wasn't sure how to make things better. The room, which had seemed ample-sized when I had bought it after leaving my father's home, was now too grand for one person. I still felt Avah's presence. I saw her sitting on my bed, legs folded as she laughed. Dimples pierced her cheeks when she smiled. Cheer filled her light brown eyes when she was happy. I could still hear her voice, light and teasing.

I remembered the last day I had seen her; her laughter had fled when she saw me in her mother's apron. Her countenance continued to crumble as she swore she was okay. It wasn't until after Avah had left, escaping to the street in only her underwear, that her father told me that the apron he had given me belonged to Avah's mother, who had died after committing suicide.

If I had known beforehand, I would have never worn that stupid thing.

After I had rejected her kiss and donned her dead mother's apron with a carefree smile, I wouldn't be surprised if Avah came to hate me.

Since I was young, my father had always said he would marry me off to whoever was the highest bidder, so I had never thought of love or falling for someone, and even after getting to know Ava, all I had wanted was well... I wasn't sure. Why did I keep going to see her when it would be better to walk away? Did I love her or feel guilty about not helping her with Yolinda and Fred?

***

I sipped on a cup of green tea. The bitter yet sour tang calmed me, but a dull ache remained in my chest. Avah hadn't returned home after that day. To fill her spot, I had dinner with her father when my schedule allowed, but you could see the defeat in his eyes echoed in the creases that adorned his skin. I wasn't his daughter. He had lost everyone he loved—wife, son and daughter. He had devoted his life to caring for his family, and when he needed them, they disappeared.

I saw Avah sitting across from me, a careless expression on her face as she gazed out the large windows that faced the sea. The light would play across her bronze skin and touch her messy black and grey curls. Then, she would smile at me as she tipped her chair back like an absentminded child, catching herself before she fell. It was strange how I missed her. Her laugh melted the ice that had formed over my skin after dealing with the strangers I called family.

I tapped my fingers on the table. I bet Bella knew where Avah was, but if I saw Bella, I would smell my father's blood and remember how he had sent someone to kill me. And how I had begged Bella to kill him.

Johnson X-3 placed a plate with a glazed chocolate donut before me. If Avah saw it, she would probably call me a hypocrite and mimic my voice while saying, "That's not real food," before stealing a bite.

I smiled, inhaled its sweet scent, and then asked Johnson to throw it out. If I gained too much weight, people would call me fat and ugly, my job offers would decline, and I would cease to be 'beautiful'. It didn't matter to me, but I needed to hold onto my position to help others. So, I would be the beautiful girl for a little while longer.

***


At lunch, I met Sima, one of the prime minister's twelve daughters for lunch. We had invited the heads of the Medical Council to discuss opening free vaccination clinics for those in the poorer castes. Our ship cut across the lake's choppy waves. The sky was a lovely blue; no sign of clouds or the horrid weather that had plagued us before. The doctors, men and women, all wore white lab coats. Both sexes had put their hair into the latest fashions. The men wore their hair long and slightly curled, while some women opted for shorter styles that made them seem sterner and more intimidating than those who focused on beauty and other superficial qualities.

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