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I WALK OUT OF the dressing room while wearing a dark blue, floral print, short sleeve wrap dress that ends right below my butt line. I pull it down towards my tights.

Bridget glances at me.

"Honey. Everything that is pretty, has to be shown. Eventually, Mijan is simply going to pull that up to your waist and bend you over."

She studies my face with mocking eyes, and her mouth twists into a humorless smile.

"You can't get attached to feelings in this line of business. You are viewed as a property. You are our product."

I raise my eyebrows.

"What if I want out?"

Bridget tosses the phone at me, and I catch it in the air.

"You can't. Only the Collective can resign your papers. Now go, and let your scene begin!"

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