Book 2: Secrets Can Be Deadly

Emily

I treat my makeup like facial jewelry. Playing with shapes, colors, and structures changes me from the inside out. Considering that I am naturally attractive, I don't need much of it, but today is going to be the best day of my life.

I have taken out my black silk gown, with a lace hemming. The neckline is quite low, and the bodice so tight that it will push my breasts high and make for the most alluring cleavage. I should ask Tara to have it steam-pressed so it’s ready for the ‘sad’ theme that’s going to unfold soon enough.

I just like playing with makeup and clothes–so I really don’t feel like there are rules to sadness or mourning, and if there are rules, then I think it’s up to me to break them.

For a little practice before the Breeder is officially pronounced dead, I rehearse my fake somber expressions in front of the mirror as I sit in the ergonomic chair in front of it. As I count down the minutes, the clock's ticking becomes lou