A young man, feeling totally unwanted by his family, runs away. He needs to find a way to survive, and eventually, he stumbles into an Op Rescue clinic.
Paige continues to struggle against her past, but with help, slowly starts to think about her future.

Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Prologue
Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Chapter 1
Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Chapter 2

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This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

"Want some popcorn?" Beth asked from the kitchen.

Paige, sprawled on the sofa, shook her head. "No, thank you," she said politely.

Beth finished pouring glasses of soda, put the soda bottle back in the refrigerator, and carried the two glasses out to the sofa. "Here you go," she said, handing a glass to Paige. She sat down. "What's on?"

Paige shrugged. "Some old movie. 'How to Murder Your Wife' or something like that."

"How did your appointment go? Are you going to be getting your transfer soon?"

"Yeah. Tina said I should get the transfer two weeks after I finish this period. She said my body is ready."

"You'll be off your feet for at least two weeks afterward," Beth noted.

"Yeah."

"You don't sound thrilled."

"Really? Sitting around in a hospital room, and then here, doing nothing for two weeks - again? That doesn't sound exciting to you?"

"Paige," Beth chided her gently, "stop with the self-pity. You know we'll all do everything we can to keep you from being bored."

"Sorry," the girl said, looking down in shame. "It's just that today, at our workout, Suzie reminded me of a few things that made me upset."

"You've got all of us to help you," Beth reminded Paige.

Paige didn't hear. Her eyes had a far-away look. "I don't know what to do when I'm alone. I never got any hobbies or activities that I was interested in," she said sadly. "My brother played trumpet, and then he quit, so when I wanted to play in the band, they made me play trumpet, since they already had one. I wanted to play the saxophone, but that didn't matter." She shook her head slowly. "I wanted to try out for the swim team, but my sister was already doing martial arts, and since they didn't want to be driving all over the place, I lost. I had a choice of nothing or martial arts." Her eyes started to water. "Why?" she asked, wiping at her tears. "Why can't I ever get away from them? It wasn't bad enough to make my life hell, but now they won't get out of my head!"

Beth scooted closer and pulled Paige's head onto her shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around the sobbing girl. Inwardly, she cursed parents who could do this to a child, even if it was through sheer ignorance. Paige didn't deserve this. No child did.

**********

"How are you doing?" Beth called from the doorway. She was in her uniform, and was taking a break from her usual rounds and patients.

Startled, Paige turned her head toward Beth as she quickly closed the laptop. The head of her bed was elevated, so she was in a sitting position. "I'm a little bored," Paige answered.

Beth smiled. "I thought that computer kept you busy."

"When I'm not groggy from pain meds," Paige retorted. "Or when I'm not too uncomfortable."

"How is the pain?"

Paige shrugged. "It's kind of hard to believe there's a little girl inside me," she said, her voice filled with awe as she absently placed her hand on her tummy.

Beth smiled wistfully, her eyes staring into space as she recalled her own experiences. "That's what I felt like when I had my son, and again when I did my turn as a host."

"You did this, too?" Paige asked.

Beth nodded. "It's not a written requirement, but it's sort of expected that everyone on the staff will do at least one turn as a host, just so we can better empathize with our patients." She smiled. "Six months ago, could you have possibly imagined that you'd be carrying a baby now?"

"No," Paige chuckled. "It wasn't something I ever thought about. If you'd have told me I'd be a pregnant girl, I'd have said you were insane."

"Well, you are, and that makes you a very special person. You're going to help a little girl be born into the world." She saw how Paige seemed to melt when she said that Paige was special. She guessed that no-one had ever said anything like that to Paige before. "The baby is four months gestational age, so in five months, you get to give birth."

Paige wrinkled her nose. "I've heard that part's tough."

"It all depend. Some births are easy, some aren't. But it can't be too bad, or no-one would ever have siblings." She grinned. "Some women like being pregnant so much that they do more than one. Rachel has done four, and Tina, three. Helen, one of the nurses that you probably haven't met, is out on maternity leave with her seventh."

"Seven?" Paige's eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of their sockets.

"She's an unusual case. She carried the first twins that the Foundation dealt with. Some of our clients have done more than one contract." Beth smiled. "One girl is carrying her third baby while she studies for her doctorate at the university, while her partner is doing her first one. I wish you could meet her. Her story might help you adjust and get comfortable with yourself."

"Wow! Maybe I should do that."

"Wait until you're done before you make up your mind about carrying a second baby. Some women's pregnancies are easier, while others are pretty tough." Beth saw Paige's eyes widen at her warning. "You won't know for a few days if you're going to experience morning sickness. You won't know until the time comes if you'll have an easy delivery or a tough one. But then, Tina and Rachel already told you about the possible complications, didn't they?"

Paige looked down, her cheeks reddening slightly. "I ... didn't really pay attention," she admitted.

Beth laughed aloud. "While you're a girl, we're going to have to work on getting rid of those bad male habits, like not listening to instructions!"

Paige's face brightened at the joke.

"How are you doing on the on-line studying?" Beth asked, eliciting a stunned look from the girl. Beth smiled. "You've fallen asleep at the computer a few times, and I saw what website you were on. Don't worry, though. It's our secret."

"Thanks. It's ... kind of embarrassing to be so far behind."

"I think it's great that you're taking the initiative to do that," Beth said, sounding like a proud parent. "I've got to get back to my patient. If you need anything ...."

"Beth?" Paige called after her. She felt something strange, and pleasant, when Beth had praised her. It felt good.

"Yes, dear?"

"I noticed that there are classes and coaches for voice and manners and stuff like that. Do you think that I could get some lessons while I'm stuck here?"

Beth smiled. "I'll talk to Rachel. I'm sure we can get something arranged."

"Thanks."

As Beth was about to leave, another thought occurred to her. "Would you like it if I could see if maybe one of our host mothers — someone who'd had a full change like you — could spend a little time talking with you? Do you think that might help?"

Paige thought a moment. "Yeah. That might be nice."

Beth smiled, turned, and strode back to the nurses' station. She was already thinking of contacting one particular client, one who had a lot in common with Paige and might be able to help the girl out, if for no other reason than listening.

**********

"Are you sure?" Beth spoke into the phone. She had an expression of significant concern.

"I'll be fine," Paige replied on the other end, sounding a little impatient. She was sitting on the sofa in Beth's apartment, absently brushing her hair out of her face. "You're the one who keeps telling me that I have to get out more."

"Where are you planning to go?" Paige's confidence didn't allay Beth's fears. She knew how reclusive and fearful Paige was.

"I'm going to the mall. I need to get a couple of new bras, and I figured I should get some jeans or pants that are more comfortable. My tummy _is_ getting bigger," Paige reminded Beth. She was doing her best to sound confident and self-assured, but she wasn't really convincing Beth.

"You promise you won't lift anything heavy? You won't try to buy too much?"

"I've seen women who are a lot more than six months along doing more exercise and lifting than you're letting me do! And I'm completely healed from my surgery. Tina said so," she added. "That was almost two months ago!"

"We're just trying to take care of you," Beth countered. "Promise you won't lift anything heavy?"

"I promise," Paige said, sighing. "You and Tina and Rachel are all ganging up on me!" she feigned a complaint.

"Don't forget Suzie," Beth chuckled.

"Yeah, whatever," Paige answered. She really wanted to get going on her errands.

"Are you sure? You'll have to transfer from the two-twenty bus to the fifty-four bus downtown," Beth began. "I'll be off at four. Maybe you should wait and we can ...."

"I'll be okay," Paige reassured Beth, rolling her eyes in a gesture that Beth couldn't see, while trying to keep sarcasm out of her voice. "I know the bus schedule."

"Okay. I've got to get back to my rounds. Call if you need anything."

Paige hung up the cell phone. It wasn't fancy, like some folks had, but it did give her basic phone and texting capability that she'd lacked for years. The phone gave her a sense of confidence to try going out on her own. She'd already ventured to the corner store for a few small grocery items — she still wasn’t permitted to do any heavy lifting — and she'd walked to a Subway for lunch once, even though she'd been quite nervous during her outings.

Paige thought briefly about changing out of the sweats she was wearing, but when she remembered the last time she'd tried to pull on her tight jeans a week earlier, she abandoned the idea. Her pants — and indeed some of her blouses — were purchased before her transfer. Now, she had a four- month-old baby in her uterus, and while she wasn't yet showing, it was enough to make her jeans very uncomfortable. Her breasts were growing, so her bras fit poorly, and some of her tops were tight.

Paige had been clothes-shopping twice with Beth, and she knew that she didn't understand women's sizes, let alone the dizzying array of clothing that some girls owned. That didn't dissuade her; if she had to be a girl for this contract, she was determined to learn. All the women at the clinic had experienced Paige's stubborn streak, so the latest adventure of getting out of the apartment to go shopping really wasn't a surprise.

She pulled on a little more colorful T-shirt before she touched up her makeup and hair. While it had been strange the first few times she'd worn makeup, or styled her hair, she'd attacked that change with the same gusto that she applied to all of her challenges, and now it seemed strange to not be wearing makeup or have her hair done.

For a brief moment, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, Paige wondered what she was doing. She could still see the haunted look in her eyes, from all her days as Pete, suffering emotional abuse, or living alone and in fear of being forced back home. She could easily recognize Pete's features under her hair and makeup, even though Rachel, Suzie, and Beth constantly reassured her that she didn't look anything like Pete. She was now a girl, completely and anatomically, and thanks to the lessons at the clinic, she was rapidly developing female mannerisms, and her voice was a lot more feminine than Pete's had been. She was pregnant, too, although she wished a little bit that she was very pregnant and showing. No-one would ever think that a pregnant girl, with a very large belly and enlarged breasts, could have once been a runaway teenager.

With some trepidation, Paige walked down the stairs of the apartment building and out into the sun. The bus stop was only half a block away, and she strode quickly there. She only glanced nervously around herself once or twice, before she got to the stop. While she was waiting for the bus, and during the bus rides, she seemed to get more and more uncomfortable, her eyes slowly reflecting her fear, as she ventured far from the safety of the apartment.

Once she got in the mall, she felt both more secure and less so in the large crowd. It would be harder for someone to focus on her, and identify her, but at the same time, there were _so many_ people! She hadn't expected the mall to be so crowded in mid-afternoon on a weekday, and yet it was.

Paige stood in the entrance, and took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. Clenching her jaw with determination, she walked purposefully into the mall, and to one of the stores. Trying on bras and panties was easier than she'd thought; while she was in the changing room, she found that she was relaxed, because she was safe from anyone who might see and recognize her.

After the successful foray to buy lingerie, and as she strode toward a department store, Paige started suddenly feeling uncomfortable and very self-conscious. She glanced around nervously. Her eyes went wide with fright and her jaw dropped when she saw a girl staring intently at her. Her heart raced as she tried to force herself to look away, to walk away, or something, but Paige found that she was frozen with fear. She recognized the girl. The name came to her instantly — Amy Miller. Amy had been in the same class as Pete for years, since grade school. In early years, they were good friends, until the inevitable separation caused by budding hormones and peer-pressure. And Amy was staring at Paige, with what Paige _knew_ was recognition in her eyes.

Paige finally managed to turn and walk, then run, away from Amy. She was sure that Amy had recognized her, and was following her. She was only barely aware that, by running headlong through the mall, she was attracting more attention, and that now many people were staring at her. She glanced over her shoulder, paranoia setting in, as she fled. The nearest place that looked like safety lay ahead — the restrooms. Glancing over her shoulder once more, she ducked down the short hall to the restrooms and burst into the ladies' room. As busy as the mall was, the restroom surprisingly had only a few ladies and girls in it. Paige crashed through a semi-open door into a stall, slamming it shut behind her. She stared at the door, certain that Amy was going to open it and catch her, and then report to her parents that she'd found Pete.

Paige backed away from the door, beside the toilet. It was her good luck that she'd stumbled into the corner stall. She collapsed against the back wall, sandwiched between the side wall and the cold porcelain of the toilet. She curled up into a ball, her lip trembling as she whimpered in fright, her eyes locked on the stall door, terrified that Amy had followed her, and was going to confront her about her change, or to announce that she was going to tell Paige's parents where they could find their 'son'.

Somehow, part of Paige's mind wasn't overcome by her paralyzing fear and panic attack. After it successfully fought off the terrorized reaction the rest of her brain was suffering, the logic center directed her to pull out her cell phone and press a few buttons. The phone on the other end rang, and as the person answered it, the phone slipped from Paige's hand and clattered to the bathroom floor. "Suzie?" Paige whimpered over and over, tears streaming down her cheeks, as the logical half of her mind was finally and completely overwhelmed by the terrified emotional half.

**********

"Your outing was pretty daring," Rachel observed without judgment. "You shouldn't have tried to go out alone — not with your fear. You know we would have helped you if you had asked."

Paige was sitting on the couch, her face still white with terror, and her knees drawn up to her chest so that she was nearly in a fetal position. "Uh huh," she whispered, her cheeks still moist from ongoing tears. The cord handle of her shopping bag was still over her arm, and she clutched tightly to her purse as if it were a life jacket and she were drowning.

Suzie had dropped everything and rushed to the mall to find Paige. It took a bit of doing; the girl was nearly catatonic, and hadn't mentioned where she was. It was fortunate that the background noise of a toilet flushing had given Suzie a clue. It had taken nearly twenty minutes to calm the girl enough to come out of the stall, and then another twenty to get her to walk out to Suzie's car. All the while, Paige had one hand held up almost like she was going to suck her thumb, and the other clenching the wrist of her first arm. Shopping bags were still hanging from her arms. In the car, Paige hadn't moved, and Suzie had to buckle her in. They'd returned directly to the clinic, to Rachel's office, where Paige was now sitting.

"What happened?" Rachel asked simply.

"A friend ...," Paige began, still trembling. "She ... she recognized me."

"You _thought_ she recognized you," Rachel corrected. Paige stared, doe-eyed, at Rachel. "You don't look anything like you did when you first came here. You've changed totally. It'd be nearly impossible that someone would recognize you."

"Why was she staring at me?" Paige asked in a tiny, frightened voice. "She recognized me! Now she'll tell _them_! And they'll start looking for me again!"

Rachel shook her head. "I really doubt she recognized you. You've changed your appearance too much for anyone to recognize."

"Why was she staring?"

"Have you ever looked at someone, and had the feeling that you'd seen them somewhere before? You stare, even though you can't think of a name to go with the face. Right?"

Paige nodded. "I guess," she agreed reluctantly.

"I think you took too big a first step." Rachel sighed. "With all the changes, you were slowly getting over your fear being in public. Until today, at least, you seemed to be doing rather well."

"That's why I thought I could do this," Paige said.

"And you were probably feeling cooped up, and bored?"

Paige nodded. "I feel ... like the apartment is closing in on me sometimes."

"We have good facilities here. You can always hang out in the lounge. And if you want to go out somewhere else, we have staff who can go with you to help you feel more confident."''

"Yeah, I guess." Paige didn't sound too sure.

"You're not being kept on a leash," Rachel said firmly. "This is for your mental health and safety."

"Okay." She still didn't sound convinced.

"We need to get you past your fear that everyone will recognize you and force you back to a situation that made you miserable, but you need to be more patient - not taking a big leap like you did today."

"Even when I ran away," Paige started sobbing, "even when I change everything, they're still after me. All the crap I had to put up with — it still torments me! I hate them! I hate them all! I wish they were all dead!" Paige let her head collapse into her hands, weeping. "They won't leave me alone."

Rachel moved next to Paige and put her hand on the girl's shoulder, reassuring her. "You'll be okay," Rachel offered. "You have to get out all those years of pain before you can get past them."

"I wish I could change how I look completely," Paige wept. "So no-one would recognize me." She suddenly looked up at Rachel. "Isn't there some kind of surgery that you could do for me?" Her eyes were pleading.

Rachel knew what the policy was; once a girl had her transfer, surgical procedures were highly discouraged, since they posed a threat to the baby as well. And in this case — a young man who hadn't fully committed to remaining a woman, it was very contra-indicated. But they were going to have to do something. Paige had been studying on-line for her GED, and once that was accomplished, she had been somewhat receptive to the idea of starting at the community college toward a degree. But those steps would require her to be able to go out in public, and she didn't have enough self-confidence to do that. She was too paralyzed by fear. "We _don't_ do any elective surgery while a woman is pregnant. Any unnecessary risk to the baby is unacceptable."

"But ... I need ...."

Rachel shook her head firmly. "No. If you absolutely feel you need to get out of the apartment, we'll make sure there's a staff member who can be with you. We don't want a repeat of this incident, do we?"

"No," Paige said, her head low.

"I know you have a strong sense of independence," Rachel continued. "I know this is really difficult for you. But you need to believe that we're here to help you, and that we'll get through this _together_. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I get the strong sense that your entire reason for wanting to change your appearance is so you aren't as afraid of being recognized, true?"

Paige shrugged. "Maybe. I guess."

"That's not a reason to change your facial appearance. You _do_ know that, if you have cosmetic surgery, you're essentially committing to remaining female. Going back from _that_ step is much harder than just replacing your male parts. "It's a very serious step toward becoming transgendered, and staying a woman. That's not how you should handle big decisions like this. You need to change out of desire, not fear."

Paige's eyes widened as she considered Rachel's warning. "I ... I hadn't thought of that," she admitted softly.

"Does it scare you? The thought of staying a woman?"

"Yeah."

"But not as much as the fear of your family, or of being recognized as the boy you once were?"

"Yeah." She looked at the floor, then at Rachel. "Before, I was always afraid, and I always had nightmares. Since I ... look like this, I haven't had as many. I feel ... like I'm free. Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I feel ... special, not like I did before." Tears started to leak from her eyes. "You and Suzie and Beth — you’ve all been so nice to me, and I feel ... wanted."

"You _are_ a special person," Rachel reassured Paige. "You _are_ wanted."

Paige looked up at Rachel, her eyes still moist. "The other day, when I went out for lunch, a couple of girls talked to me. It felt good to talk with them ... like friends. And ...."

"And what?" Rachel's curiosity was piqued.

Paige looked down, her cheeks reddening. "A couple of boys were staring at me ... and they were smiling at me." She paused, wondering how to continue. "I felt ... pretty."

"You've changed enough so that you don't have to have the surgery," Rachel changed back to the original subject.

"But ... I _want_ to feel prettier!" Paige protested, still staring at the floor so Rachel couldn't see her beet-red cheeks. "When I look in the mirror, I still see ... an ugly boy ... that no-one wanted. I hate that! I want to feel like I'm special."

"I see your point." Rachel sighed heavily. "I understand what you're saying, but as director, I _can't_ approve cosmetic surgery while you're carrying the baby. After you deliver the baby, if you still want to do it, we can arrange something. Okay?"

Paige looked up at her. "You said yourself that I'm not as frightened since ... these changes. I don't want to be scared any more. I _need_ to not be scared. So Okay.” Paige sounded relieved at that promise.

"And I promise you that we'll help every way we can. But I will not let you endanger the baby, and that's final. I want you coming in every day for the next few weeks."

"Why?" Paige's internal alarms were sounding again. Why was Rachel insisting on her being there more often? Didn't they trust her? Didn't they think she was capable?

"Paige, you're fear caused you a panic attack. That's not healthy for you, either physically or mentally, and it's sure not healthy for the baby. We need to work on you overcoming your fear, so you can have a normal, productive life."

Paige nodded glumly. She'd already spent time with Rachel and another counselor discussing her family history, and she wasn't looking forward to more such discussions. Each time more of her past had been dredged up, she'd ended up with nightmares that night.

Rachel noted the shift in Paige's mood. "Hey," she said, her tone encouraging, "you're getting there. You've made a lot of progress already. You have a lot of people to help you. Just believe that you can do this. Okay?"

Paige nodded, a tiny, hesitant movement of her head. "Okay." She didn't sound confident.

**********

"You are ...?" Paige asked warily, easing herself into a chair at the table in one of the lounges.

The girl smiled. She was pregnant — quite pregnant. "I'm Tommi Sue Snyder," she said pleasantly. "Rachel suggested that I should talk to you, to see if I can give you some advice." She patted her belly. "I hope you'll forgive me for not standing."

Paige took a moment to look over the newcomer. She knew that Rachel had suggested that this girl, Tommi, would be helpful, but still, she couldn't help but be suspicious. Even seated, Paige could tell that Tommi was a little taller than an average girl, and despite being pregnant, she looked quit slim and graceful. Her baby was the basketball in the tummy, not the overall bloat that seemed more common among women, which meant that Tommi took very good care of herself. She wore her long brown hair in a simple ponytail, probably for convenience since she was so far along, but her makeup was as perfect as Rachel's always was. Tommi's outfit was simple, yet attractive, something that would have been suitable for an office or for shopping. The thing that really stood out, though, was the sparkle in her eyes, the zest for life that she showed. Paige gulped; the girl was so perfect that Paige felt, strangely, inadequate. "I'm Paige," she said simply.

Tommi Sue nodded knowingly. "Rachel told me."

"What else did she tell you?" Paige asked, suspicion creeping into her voice.

"Only that you're like me, but a little earlier in the process."

"What do you mean, like you?"

Tommi Sue laughed, a gentle, friendly, feminine sound. "A few years ago, I was a guy who got in trouble, lost a scholarship, and had to find a job."

"You were a guy?" Paige was dumbfounded. "But you look, you act, you sound ... like a girl!'

Tommi Sue nodded. "Thanks. I had some help from the girls in my dorm, and from the coaches here in the clinic. And Erica doesn't let me get away with anything boyish, either."

"Who's Erica? Is she one of the staff here?"

Tommi Sue chuckled. "No. She's my partner. She's the love of my life." Her eyes had a particularly radiant sparkle when she was talking about the other girl. "She's my world. Well, her and grad school. But she comes first," she added quickly with a grin.

Paige shook her head, puzzled. "How did _you_ decide to be a girl, or to stay a girl?"

"It's a long story. The short version is that I fooled around, lost a scholarship, started the program to pay for college, and then was rejected by my family, my friends that I grew up with — pretty much everyone back ... there. The clinic gave me a way to stay in college, and then new friends, a new family, and ... everything!" She was ebullient about the benefits she'd received from being a host mother.

Paige looked down at her hands. "My ... family ... hates me," she said mournfully. "I had to get away from them." Her voice cracked with emotion. "And I hate what they did to me so much that I ran away more than two years ago."

Tommi's eyes widened with surprise. "You ... can't be more than eighteen or nineteen. That means you were living on your own when you were ... sixteen?"

Paige nodded. "Fifteen. It was better than _their_ abuse."

"And I'd suppose that you never contacted them? Do they know ...?"

"No!" Paige said sharply, looking up at Tommi Sue, and her eyes burning with determination. "They don't know, and I don't want them to ever know! They probably wouldn't care, anyway. They treated me like shit, so they wouldn't care if I'm dead or not."

Tommi nodded somberly. "No wonder Rachel wanted me to talk to you." She could tell that this was a very troubled young lady.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Paige was forcing herself to stay at the table, to not get up and leave. Her suspicions were fully aroused. Why was Tommi talking to her the way she was? How much had Rachel told her? Could she trust Tommi?

Tommi was glad Rachel had given her a briefing, or she would have been surprised by Paige's defensiveness. "Just that I was once a guy, and felt family rejection, too, so Rachel must figure that we have enough in common that I can help. I'm doing my fourth baby, by the way, so we have being host mothers in common, too."

"Four?" Paige was wide-eyed with surprise. "And you used to be a guy?"

"If you didn't know, would you have guessed?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so. No." Paige shook her head slightly, her anger damped by Tommi's charm and friendliness. "You like having babies?"

Tommi nodded. "Yes, I do. But to be honest, when this one is done and I'm a little closer to getting my degree, Erica and I are going to have our own children."

"Did it take you a long time to get used to being a girl?" Paige's line of questioning turned to something safe, something far from her family and the rejection she'd experienced.

Tommi laughed. "It took me a lot longer to decide to go all the way than I'm told it took you. It's rather unusual for someone to decide to make such radical changes so quickly, and then press to change more — all without looking back."

"You don't know what kind of crap I put up with, or how much they hurt me. What would _you_ do to hide from people who did nothing but hurt you?" Paige asked bitterly. "I'm not weird or anything, but it's the only way I can get away from them."

"So, with the changes, you're hiding in plain sight, is that it?" Tommi asked, eliciting a surprised look from Paige. Tommi laughed lightly. "You're going to encounter some things that challenge you, though," Tommi said, "even though you've decided to make this extreme change."

"Worse than having a period? Or of suddenly being pregnant?"

Tommi smiled. "Yes, even more than that. But you'll find a lot of help adjusting, if you're not too stubborn to accept it."

Paige was silent for a moment as she considered Tommi's words. "Is it worth it? Is there anything you miss ... about being a guy, I mean?"

Tommi shook her head. "No, not a thing. I love who I am, and what I found. Now, how about if we spend some time talking about you, and what you've gone through? And what you're going to go through?"

**********

Paige sat in a chair in the examining room, pent-up energy making her want to walk out the door. Going to the gym to work off some of her antsy-ness actually seemed like an attractive idea, despite the fact that she usually abhorred going to the gym. She couldn't, however, just walk out — she'd get in big trouble with Tina, and then with Beth and Rachel.

Instead of leaving, then, Paige started looking at the various medical charts and models strewn about the room. She hadn't had high-school biology, so a lot of the terms were a mystery to her, but she still found it interesting.

"Hi, Paige," Tina said cheerfully, opening the door and stepping into the room. As usual, she carried a computer with all of the records.

Paige was startled by Tina's appearance. "Uh, hi," she replied, quickly taking a seat on the examining table.

Tina glanced at the chart Paige had been reading. "Are you interested in medicine?" she asked conversationally.

Paige shook her head, her cheeks reddening slightly. "No," she said quickly. "I was just passing time."

"You know, there are a lot of careers in medicine, from medical assistant, all the way to physician. You might want to think about your future."

"Uh, I don't think so," Paige replied quickly. "I don't really like medicine."

"How is the pregnancy going? I take it you're over your morning sickness?"

Paige shrugged. "It wasn't that bad, really," she answered. "Just a little upset stomach in the morning."

"Consider yourself lucky. Some women have those — or far worse - symptoms for their entire pregnancy." Tina was clinical and to-the-point for the rest of the examination. "I see you've put on a couple of extra pounds."

Paige pouted. "It's not my fault. After all I had to eat on the healing drugs, I kind of got used to big portions."

"Well, I'll talk with Beth about making sure your portions are properly sized, and you'll get to spend a little more time in the gym."

"I thought I read something that said the exercise people do is only worth a little bit of any weight they lose," Paige rebutted.

Tina laughed. "That's true, but it's still my prerogative to make you exercise so you stay in shape. You're not the worst. One patient had a real sweet tooth, and a friend who insisted on buying her pastries at the college donut shop every morning! She was a tough one to get to behave with diet." A warm, nostalgic smile dawned on Tina's face. "She's still a very good friend, and all that exercise taught her how to take care of herself. For having delivered three babies, and being on her fourth, she's in remarkably good shape."

"I can't believe someone would do four babies," Paige said incredulously. "Rachel had me talk to a woman the other day who's on her fourth baby." She shook her head. "I don't understand it."

"She's probably the same girl I'm talking about. Was her name Tommi Sue?"

"Yeah," Paige acknowledged.

"You should listen to her. You could learn a lot. She had a very rough couple of years, but look at where she is now. She's about to get her PhD, and she's already got an offer from the Foundation to work on biomedical research." Tina smiled at fond memories. "Tommi is a wonderful girl."

"She said she ... used to be a guy." Paige shook her head. "I can't believe that. She looks so ... pretty - and feminine!"

Tina smiled. "You should have met her when she started. I think she was a lot more confused than you are."

"So, what you're saying is that it will get better?"

"That's for you and Rachel to discuss, honey," Tina chuckled. "Now, let's get the exam over with."

Paige knew, from experience, that once Tina entered 'doctor mode', she was very focused, and chit-chat was a distraction that Tina didn't like. She started to swing her legs up to the stirrups, but Tina interrupted her. "No, we don't need to do a pelvic today." She listened to Paige's heart and lungs, and then used her fetal Doppler stethoscope to listen to the baby's heartbeat. As she put the instrument away, she commented, "I think we can ease some of the restrictions on lifting, and you can go to a little more strenuous exercise. Not more than fifteen to twenty pounds lifting, though. And when you go to the gym, they'll know what routines you should be doing."

Paige nodded. "Okay," she said, sounding unhappy. She knew that the fitness trainer in the gym would ensure that she adhered to the new routine, which meant that she'd be more tired after her gym sessions.

"Do you have an appointment scheduled with Rachel today?"

"No. But I'm supposed to go to the gym."

"Then I'll get the new instructions to them right now, so you can get started right away." She picked up her computer and typed, while Paige groaned softly at her efficiency.

Paige trudged to the gym, dreading a new workout routine. In her mind, she knew that she needed more exercise, especially since shed been on tight restrictions since her transfer. Knowing that, however, didn’t make her any less reluctant to actually begin more rigorous exercise, especially if Louise was the trainer. Louise was very demanding, known for not allowing her trainees even the slightest latitude in the routine. Dreading a workout with "the fitness fascist", as some clients called her, Paige walked into the locker room and changed into her exercise clothes. With a final resigned sigh, she grabbed a towel from a pile, flipped it over her shoulder, and went out to the gym.

Paige felt relief wash over her when she saw that Louise already had a client working out with her. As she glanced around, another trainer looked up from a computer at the trainer's desk. "Ah, good morning, Paige," she said warmly. "I see Tina wants you to start level 2 workouts."

"Yeah," Paige answered unenthusiastically.

The trainer, a mid-twenties girl named Kelly, chuckled. "We'll start out slow, since you've been on restrictions for a while."

"Okay." Paige followed Kelly to the row of elliptical training machines. "Five minutes to warm up?" she asked.

"We'll start with six today, and we'll slowly work up to a total of fifteen minutes. We need to get you into aerobic exercise, remember?"

"Yay," Paige said with not the slightest hint of enthusiasm. She slung her towel over a rack near the machines and started exercising. Her eyes widened when Kelly adjusted the program, making it a little more difficult.

"Don't worry," Kelly said with a smile when she saw Paige's reaction. "We'll work up slowly. By the way, I love how you've done your hair. It's really cute," she complimented.

Paige's cheeks blushed at the compliment, even as she felt a twinge of distress at being called a cute girl. Did part of her like being a cute girl? Being complimented was something that she'd seldom experienced, and she found that she enjoyed the feeling of others noticing her in a positive way.

As she continued the exercise, under the gentle but firm guidance of Kelly, Paige couldn't help but wonder who she was. She was no longer the terrified young homeless boy who'd come into the clinic looking for a job months ago. Now, though, she was undeniably a young lady, who was pregnant with the baby she was hosting. She realized that she'd been insistent on coaching to change her voice and manners. She had one of the most feminine hairstyles she could get. She was wearing her makeup to make her look more feminine, too. She realized, with a start, that it was like she was trying to hide that boy. Was that what she was doing? Was she hiding? Or was she trying to start over completely by erasing that frightened young boy from existence? She didn’t know the answer, and she found that scary as well. Did that mean she had no core identity, but was like a chameleon, adapting the outer form to hide, to blend in and not be noticed.

They moved to the weight machine, and as she worked through her exercises, Paige tried to focus her mind on the routines that Kelly was introducing her to. The exercise routine, with its mindless repetitions, were boring, though, and her idle mind kept returning to the question of who she was, and what she was doing. And as she thought, a single, solitary thought intruded into her self-questioning. It was a brutal thought that absorbed all of Paige's consciousness with its ugliness, and Paige was instantly and totally distracted. Her feet slipped off the foot rests, allowing the weights she'd been using for leg presses to crash noisily. Even as her feet slipped, the horrible possibility of that sudden intrusive thought caused Paige to cry in anguish. The footrest, following the weights, skidded past her legs, angrily bumping into her shins.

With the noise of iron weight crashing together, Kelly immediately thought that something had happened to Paige. "Are you okay?" she said in an automatic reaction as she quickly squatted down beside the now-injured girl. She saw tears pouring from Paige's eyes, and heard her whimpering. The trainer's automatic assumption was that the girl had hurt herself. She pressed a button on a small device attached to her waist. Over the years, enough girls had been injured in the gym, often through emotional over-reaction or, in the case of former guys, from a need to prove that they were still manly, so the trainers had been provided with 'medical alert' pagers. In response to that button press, at least one of the doctors would rush to the gym to deal with a potential injury, allowing the trainer to focus on calming the injured client and prevent movement and further damage.

"Don't move," Kelly said to Paige, putting her hands lightly on the girl's shoulders. "Someone is coming to help."

Paige turned her head slowly and stared at Kelly, still weeping. It seemed to take a few moments for the trainer's words to sink in. "They're still controlling me," she cried, her voice trembling with emotion. "They're still after me."

"Where are you hurt?" Kelly continued, following her own training.

An older woman in a lab coat rushed into the gym. After a momentary scan, she ran over to Paige's side. "What happened?" the doctor asked, taking control of the situation. "Where does it hurt?"

"My shins," Paige answered, still crying. "I slipped, and it hit my shins."

"Can you move your feet?"

Paige stared at the doctor, and then nodded as she complied with the request. She continued following the doctor's instruction as the doctor had her move her legs, while probing the girl's shins and ankles.

"I don't think you broke anything," the doctor reported, leaning back on her heels. "I think you're going to get by with just some bad bruising." The doctor stood. "I want to get X-rays, though, just to make sure that we don't miss anything." She looked reassuringly at Paige. "Don't try to get up. We'll get a wheelchair to take you down to the X-ray lab," she said before she turned and walked out of the gym.

Kelly looked at Paige, at her red and puffy eyes, and her sodden cheeks. "What happened?"

Paige sighed and wiped one side of her face. "I need to talk to Rachel. Please." She sounded like she was practically begging. "Please!"

**********

Paige took the tissue proffered by Rachel and wiped her cheeks. Her tears wouldn't stop, even during her ride in a wheelchair and a precautionary X-ray the doctor had ordered. The doctor had been correct; Paige hadn't broken anything. Rachel realized, from what Kelly had told her, and from Paige's reaction, that the worst bruising was probably psychological. Something had caused the girl sudden emotional trauma. It was now her job to find that something, and to help Paige deal with it. At times, such as now, Rachel envied the medical doctors. They dealt with visible things, able to see and diagnose injuries and illnesses and other conditions in their patients. Rachel, on the other hand, had to be a detective, snooping and prying until she found whatever issue lurked in the hidden recesses of her patients' minds.

"Kelly mentioned that you cried out before your feet slipped, not after," Rachel prompted, retrieving the soggy tissue from Paige and handing her a dry one.

Paige stared at her for a moment, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from her non-stop crying. "Yeah," she finally muttered.

"Did something distract you?"

Paige merely nodded as she wiped at her other cheek, dampening the once-dry tissue.

"What was it?"

Paige took a deep breath, trying to control her sobbing. "Kelly said that I was a cute girl. That got me thinking about who I really am."

"And ...?"

"And I started wondering if I was doing all this — you know, makeup, hair, voice coaching, working on mannerisms — because I want to, or because ... because ...." Her voice cracked, and she began to sob again.

Rachel knew, from all the time they'd spent together, exactly what Paige had been thinking. "You were wondering if you were doing it from fear of being found, right?" She saw Paige nod. "And that maybe made you think that you were still reacting to your family, and because of that, they were still controlling you?"

Paige nodded again, wiping at fresh tears. Rachel _did_ know what she felt. Paige felt like she was still a puppet, being manipulated by her family, even when she thought she'd escaped them. All she'd done was to trade one type of misery for another.

"You'll probably always react to what your family did," Rachel said, "just like every person reacts to their experiences — both the good ones and the bad ones." The girl looked up at her, surprised by this train of thought. "Let me put it another way. If you were crossing a street, and got hit by a car and injured, would it change how you crossed streets for the rest of your life?"

Paige considered Rachel's words for a moment, and then nodded. "I guess."

"Whatever we do in life, we _always_ subconsciously consider our experiences. It helps us survive, to avoid bad or painful or harmful situations, and to seek good, pleasant, rewarding things."

"But ... why do I feel like I'm still running away?" Paige asked. "I'm still doing everything out of fear."

Rachel smiled warmly. "Is that why you're studying for your GED?" she asked, startling the girl. "Those type of things show that you're starting to seek better experiences and situations. You're doing more than just fleeing things that are bad or potentially bad."

"I didn't think of that," Paige said. Her tears were almost stopped, and she wiped her cheeks one more time.

"You're starting to look at things out of _your_ desires, not out of fear. It means that you've turned a corner."

"But ... those thoughts and memories are ... really awful sometimes."

Rachel nodded sympathetically. "You may not want to hear this, but they always will be. They're a part of who you are, and what made you into a unique person. But what you and I are doing is to help you to learn to think about the positive steps _you_ want to make, and to be able to put aside those fears."

**********

"How's the studying going?" Beth called when she spotted Paige working at the computer.

"Pretty good." Paige turned the chair toward Beth. "Did you tell Rachel?"

Beth thought for a moment. On the one hand, she knew that Paige might consider her reporting as a violation of her trust. On the other hand, it was vital to Paige's mental health that Rachel know what was going on. She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I did. I hope you're not mad at me, but I thought it was important that she knew."

Paige nodded, with a grim expression, as she considered whether or not what Beth had done was a's betrayal. "She said that it means that I'm starting to think positively." She suddenly had a revelation that Beth hadn't told Rachel to torment her, but to _help_ her. It was the first time that she could remember someone trying to help her like that. It felt ... nice.

"Good." Beth felt relief course through her. "Are you about ready for the test?"

Paige winced visibly, though she was trying to control her emotions. "Not really," she said. Her lame excuse wasn't convincing.

"I think you're ready, based Based on what I've seen, I think you're ready," Beth countered. "There's a test date coming up, and I think you're ready."

"I ... I'm not sure," Paige stammered. She turned away from Beth toward the computer again.

Beth frowned. "What's the real reason?" she asked.

"I'm not ready," Paige declared sternly.

"The sooner you take the test, the sooner you can start working on a career."

"I don't want a career," Paige snapped. "I don't want to get locked into ... that life." She had a determined, angry expression.

Beth read her emotional state. "Deciding on a career path doesn't mean you have to follow that same life," she tried to sound calm. This was very plainly a hot-button for Paige. "But you might want to reconsider. What are you going to do after you finish this pregnancy?" She saw Paige's eyes open wide at that thought. "Are you going to go back to live in your hut?"

"There are worse places," Paige tried to sound confident, but she failed.

"I suppose you'd be a little more worried about living in your hut. After all, you're a girl now, and with the criminal activity in that area ...."

Try as she might, Paige couldn't suppress the look of terror in her eyes at Beth's words. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't find any words to rebut Beth's argument.

"You have to start thinking of your future," Beth said, trying to reassure the girl.

"Are you going to push me to go to college, so I can be a secretary, or a nurse, or a teacher? And you want me to get a boyfriend so I can get married and have kids of my own?" She bolted from the chair to her bedroom, slamming the door shut.

After a moment, when she overcame the shock of Paige' emotional, vehement outburst, Beth walked to Paige's closed door, and leaned closer. She could hear the girl crying aloud. Beth stood for a moment, wondering what she should do. Paige's tantrum was unexpected and out of character, but Beth caught herself. She'd only known Paige for a short time compared to how long Paige had been tormented and then lived alone. She really _didn't_ know if it was out of character. She thought more — what was it she'd said that had set the girl off? They were discussing the future — and then Paige had gotten upset about having a family. Could it be that she feared causing a child the same anguish she'd felt?

Beth knocked firmly. "Paige?"

The sobbing noise halted. "Yeah?"

"Can we talk?"

A moment later, the door opened. "Yeah." Paige's eyes were red from crying. She walked back and sat on her bed, her back against the headboard and her knees drawn up to her chest.

Beth sat down on the bed, facing the girl. "I'm sorry if I said something that upset you. I wasn't trying to."

"I know." The girl had her chin on her knees. "I don't know why I got so upset."

"Maybe you're afraid of the future. Maybe you're afraid that if you go on a path that might lead to a relationship and a family, that you might hurt someone as badly as you were hurt."

Paige thought for a moment. "I suppose."

"You know, there's no rule that says you have to act like your parents did." Beth's words were calming to the girl. "In fact, you'll probably be much more sensitive if you were to become a parent, because you know how easily children's feelings can be hurt."

"But ...." Paige wanted to say something, but wasn't quite sure.

"Just because you decide on to work on a career for your future, it doesn't mean that you have to go down the path of parenthood, or even getting married. I can understand why you'd be scared of not being a good parent, and of hurting children emotionally. But if you look at the positive side, there are many, many single women who have satisfying careers and are self-supporting." Paige was looking at Beth, wide-eyed and unsure. "Think of starting an education as a way to become _more_ independent."

Surprise showed on Paige's face. She'd never considered what Beth was saying. Perhaps Beth was right. She'd been hurt so badly that she feared becoming like those that had hurt her. She was so paralyzed with fear of the past that she was missing an opportunity to truly escape it. Maybe it was time to completely turn her back on what had been and to look to what could be for a change.

Paige sighed heavily. It was such a big step to change her thinking from running away from something, to running toward something else. She'd spent too many years living in fear; it had become as natural to her as breathing. "I suppose my hormones don't help much, either?" she asked dryly.

Beth chuckled. "It's been a long time since I had my hormones upset with pregnancy, so I'll take your word for it."

**********

"You look very nice today," Rachel complimented Paige as she walked demurely into Rachel's office and sat down gracefully. Paige wore a very flattering outfit of pants in a lovely rose color, with an ecru blouse decorated with embroidered roses and leaves on the placket and collars. With her hair pulled mostly to one side, but some locks sweeping low over one eye, she looked attractive, especially with the golden hoop earrings that flitted into and out of view as she moved her head.

"Thanks," Paige said, her cheeks as rosy with embarrassment as the embroidered flowers on her blouse.

"Your voice lessons are paying off, too." She shook her head, smiling as she did so. "I'd never have guessed, in a million years, that you were once a boy named Pete. You don't look or sound anything like a starving, runaway, homeless street boy."

"I think everything is going okay. With the baby, I mean," Paige added hastily. "I've got a checkup with Tina after I'm done here. She'll probably make me do more exercises and give me a new diet, though, because I think I've put on a couple of pounds. It's hard not to, though, because I don't have ...."

"Paige," Rachel interrupted the girl's prattling. "We're here to talk about you."

"But I want to talk about the baby!" Paige protested.

"Which means you're still not comfortable talking about yourself. But that's what this time is about. It's time for the two of us talk about how you're doing, and how well you're adjusting."

"I suppose."

Rachel felt her frustration growing with Paige's non-answers, but she turned that frustration into an idea. "Tell you what," she said as she rose from her chair. "I haven't been to the gym today, so why don't we go upstairs, change into our workout clothes, and spend a little time on the treadmills while we talk?"

"Huh?" Paige asked, startled.

"Come on," Rachel urged the girl. "You need to do your exercise for the day, and so do I. We'll kill two birds with one stone. Besides," she continued with a smile, "a change of pace would be fun, and it might help you feel a little less tense."

Paige was silent as the two changed in the locker room. Paige caught herself staring at Rachel. While in the office, Rachel was always impeccably attired, with her hair and makeup done perfectly. Now, though, she was pulling on a sports bra, and had slipped on teal running pants. Paige found it hard to believe that Rachel had had one baby, let alone several. There were only very faint stretch marks, and her abdomen was incredibly flat and toned. Though she was moderately-chested, Rachel's bust was equally toned, absent the sag one would expect from a woman in her mid to late-thirties.

"Come on," Rachel said, smiling with amusement at how the younger girl was gawking at her. "Don't be a slow poke." She pulled on her tight white top, with teal accents that matched her pants, and then pulled her hair into a ponytail behind her. As she fastened it, her arms reaching up behind her head, the tight top clung to her curves, accentuating them.

Paige felt a stab of jealousy, and then anger at herself for even feeling such a thing. Rachel was attractive, and took her fitness seriously. Compared to her, Paige's plain pink pants and white shirt seemed dowdy, even frumpy.

The two women mounted a pair of elliptical trainers, a contrast in both style and emotion. Rachel looked glamorous even in her exercise outfit. Paige, though, seemed plain. Rachel's hair, down and in a ponytail, bounced with energy as she began exercising, the still-curly ends bobbing in time with her pace. Compared to Rachel, Paige's hair didn’t even measure up to plain, at least in Paige's opinion. Where Rachel exuded confidence in her movement on the machine, Paige seemed hesitant.

"Why do you seem more upset than when we came into the locker room?" Rachel asked, having observed Paige's demeanor.

"I dunno," Paige muttered, almost embarrassed to be seen next to Rachel.

The center director was perceptive, which was part of her job of being a counselor. "You know, there are three parts to being attractive."

"Oh?" Paige asked. "What makes you think I want to be attractive?"

A pleasant little laugh emerged through Rachel's knowing smile. "I saw how you were looking at me while we were changing," she said. "Women compare themselves to others all the time, and I noticed that you're slowly picking up the habit."

"Oh." Paige fell silent for a moment. "So, what's the secret?"

Rachel smiled; she'd baited the girl's curiosity. "First, you need to always dress like you're showing off your best features. Dress nicely, not in frumpy or worn clothes. It doesn't have to be evening wear, or designer clothing, but something that compliments your body. Something that you're proud of wearing — like what you wore today. Second, you need to keep your hair and face neat. Not overdone, but neat. Clean and tidy. You don't have to spend hours on makeup, or use tons of hair product, but you want to look presentable, to show off your best features. Based on your appearance, I'd say you've got this one nailed, too."

"And the third?" Paige asked.

Rachel's smile broadened. "That's the one you need to work on the most. You have to have, and display, self-confidence."

"That's kind of hard, isn't it?" Paige stammered.

"Did you know any girls who lacked self-confidence?" Rachel prompted.

"I guess I knew some."

"And how did they appear?"

"I dunno," Paige said as she tried to remember. "I think they seemed timid, or they looked down on themselves."

"Did they present themselves well? Attractive? Confident?"

Paige shook her head slowly. "I suppose not."

"Self-confidence, or lack of it, affects your facial expressions, your posture, your speech — pretty much everything about you. Studies have shown that the same girl, when she displays confidence in herself, is viewed by others as more attractive." Rachel grinned. "As long as she doesn't overdo it." Rachel looked at the girl. "Is that what you want — to be attractive?"

Paige blushed and looked down as she let the elliptical trainer glide to a halt. "I don't know," she answered in a timid voice. "I guess so."

"I guess we need to ask the first question first. Are you going to change back to male after your contract is up?"

"No," came the immediate reply.

"Why not? You'll have saved enough money to start a new life, wherever you want."

"I ... can't." Paige took a deep breath, and it was evident from her stiffening spine that she was dredging up unpleasant memories. "Once, my Mom and grandmother told me that because I liked cooking and sewing so much, I'd make someone a great wife someday. The others were really mean about that, and my brother and sister spread it around school to humiliate me." Paige's jaw tightened. "I hate them for what they did. I can't ever go back to anything like what caused all that crap."

"You can't stay a girl just because of fear or hatred. Those aren't good enough reasons."

"I ... like it," Paige mumbled softly. She wiped at her eyes, which were suddenly moist. "Sometimes, I think they were right. I didn't belong being a boy."

"What they think isn't important to me, and it shouldn't be to you anymore. What's important is how _you_ feel. Do you like seeing a girl's face in the mirror?"

"Sometimes, when I'm alone in Beth's apartment, I like to dress up and put on my makeup and look pretty. I feel ... special. Not like I did when I was a boy."

"Now we're getting somewhere. So why do you suppose you don't feel pretty or special outside the apartment?"

"I don't know."

"You probably feel a lot better about yourself than you did when you were a boy," Rachel speculated, "but you've still got a ways to go. Maybe part of it is because you haven't gotten used to feeling self-confident yet." She could tell that the girl was mulling over her words. "I would say that you probably don't feel as confident in yourself when you leave the apartment."

"Maybe," Paige replied.

"So let's build up your self-confidence, so you can feel special and pretty all the time." Rachel let her machine slow. "Have you been looking at the before and after pictures at least once a day?"

Paige nodded mutely.

"And?"

"I don't look anything like I used to, when I was a guy," Paige said, still sounding unsure of herself.

"So is there any reason for you to worry about being recognized?"

"No. Except ...."

"Except what?" Rachel asked.

"Except for my name. Anything I do, like take the GED test, or get a drivers' license or get a job, I have to use _that name_, and it leaves public records. They could find me, and then they'd all make fun of me for what I've done, and call me a lot of names."

"Did you know that we can help you with that? The Foundation has a team of lawyers, and they've dealt with cases like yours before. It's kind of like a witness protection program. They can help you get a permanent name change, and have the court records sealed to protect you from harassment or physical or mental harm."

Paige stopped and looked up at Rachel's words, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped with surprise. "You ... can do that?"

"You'll have to meet with one of our senior psychiatrists — we'll have her fly down from headquarters, and an independent psychologist. You'll have to take a few more tests just to make sure we have the evidence the judge will need for sealing the records and for granting the permanent name and gender change, but yes, we can get started on that first thing Monday morning if you'd like."

"Okay." Paige showed enthusiasm for the first time that day.

"The tests and counseling sessions are going to be pretty long. We don't change a person's gender records and name without being absolutely sure that they're serious."

"How long will it take?" Paige's voice had an uncertain edge again.

Rachel shook her head. "It's hard to tell. It'll take at least a week of two-a-day meetings with the senior counselor, plus the gender identity tests. But because of the history of severe physical punishment — which is abuse in this state — and your emotional distress, we should be able to get a preliminary hearing within a couple of days after the psychologist has her report. After that, it'll depend on getting a court date for a sealed hearing. The abuse will help here, too. It tends to expedite things."

Relief seemed to wash over Paige, relaxing her worried features and muscles. Her posture eased, and the worry wrinkles on her brow vanished.

"Since we're starting the subject of gender identity change, let's talk about another part of being a girl. Sex."

Paige's jaw dropped again. "Sex?"

"It's a part of life, and the psychologist and test are going to probe that area very deeply. So we might as well get started on the discussion. Have you thought about the differences in sex between guys and girls?"

"Uh, not really."

"When you were a boy, did you do any self-experimentation?"

Paige blushed. "You mean, did I jerk off?" She saw Rachel's smile. "Yeah," she admitted softly. "I mean, what guy hasn't?"

"Did you ever have sex? With a girl, or a guy?" Paige shook her head. "How about since you've changed? Have you explored your new sex at all?" Paige dropped her gaze to the floor. Her crimson cheeks more than answered Rachel's question.

**********

Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Chapter 4
(To be continued)