We continue walking hand in hand back to my house. The sky is turning a soft shade of pink, the sun setting behind rooftops as we reach my front porch. Everything is washed in a warm glow, and for a moment, it feels like the world has wrapped us in a gentle embrace.

  “I should probably get going,” she says reluctantly, gncing at her phone. “Mom said I had to be back for dinner,” but she doesn’t let go of my hand.

  I tug her closer, resting my head on her shoulder. “I’m fine now. I think I panicked when I realized I’d be alone at Starlight.”

  She wraps her arms around me again, like a protective cocoon. “You’re worrying over nothing,” she murmurs into my hair.

  Her words sink into me, a comforting weight, and the knot in my chest loosens just a little more. I pull back and give her a soft smile, trying to convey just how much she means to me. “I love you,” I say simply.

  “I love you too,” she replies, her eyes bright despite the worry still lingering at the edges.

  She gives my hand one st squeeze before letting go, reluctantly heading back to her house. I watch until she disappears, then head inside and announce myself. I shut the door and lean against it, exhaling slowly. Mom walks out of the living room, looking at me, and I offer her a weak smile.

  She arches an eyebrow and softly asks, “You spiraled again?”

  I nod, crossing my arms over my chest. “Yeah,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Her face falls, and she pulls me into a hug. “Oh, Jackie...” she murmurs against my hair. She holds me for a long moment before finally letting go and stepping back. “Why don’t you go wash up for dinner? We can talk if you want to.”

  “Okay,” I say quietly, relieved that she doesn’t press any further. Her understanding is like Kelly Anne’s—a comforting presence that lets me know I’m not in this alone.

  I head over to the downstairs bathroom, spsh water on my face, and look at myself in the mirror. My reflection stares back. My eyes are a little red but still determined. It’s just a few more days until I can begin at Starlight, I remind myself. Just a few more days until I can get the help I need to stop these spirals.

  I walk out to the kitchen, where Mom is setting the table. She ptes up our dinners—meatloaf and mashed potatoes—and we sit down together. The silence between us is comfortable, broken only by the clink of silverware and occasional small talk about our day and what she picked up on sale at the grocery store.

  After dinner, I help clear the table, rinsing dishes and watching as Mom loads them into the dishwasher.

  “What happened to make you spiral?” she asks softly.

  I pause, my hands still in the sink, the warm water running over them. “I don’t know,” I admit, staring at the sink. “It just... hit me. The thought of leaving for Starlight, of being alone there. It’s like everything got too big all at once, and I couldn’t breathe.”

  Mom leans against the counter, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “It’s a big change,” she says gently.

  I merely nod. “I’ve always had Kelly Anne, you know? She gets me like no one else ever has.” I pause as I look up at her. “Mom, you said I get these from you. What are they?”

  “Baby, mine was depression. Medication helped me.” She gnces away, and I know she’s about to say something I’m not going to like. “I’ve been talking to my therapist about you, and she believes that for you, they’re a form of borderline personality disorder.”

  I freeze, the water still running over my hands. “Borderline personality disorder?” I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. The words feel heavy and unfamiliar, and yet something about them clicks in my mind. “What does that even mean?”

  Mom sighs, leaning against the counter. She looks at me with those soft, understanding eyes that always make me feel like I’m not alone, even when I’m drowning. “It’s... complicated,” she says, choosing her words carefully. “Basically, she believes that you denying yourself for so many years and trying to live up to your father’s expectations is the root cause. It means that sometimes you have really intense emotions that can feel overwhelming.”

  She pauses, searching my face for a reaction. I don’t know what to say, so I just stand there, the water still running over my hands, the sound of it filling the silence between us.

  Mom reaches over and turns off the faucet, then hands me a towel. “You did nothing wrong, Jackie,” she says gently. “It’s just a way of understanding why you feel the way you do sometimes.”

  I dry my hands slowly, the towel rough against my skin. “Kelly Anne made me promise to get help today. I’m going to see someone when I start at Starlight. I don’t ever want to see that expression again. She was terrified.” I stare at the towel in my hands, twisting it nervously. “I don’t want to scare her like that again,” I say, my voice cracking a little. “Or you. Or anyone.”

  Mom reaches out and pces a hand on my shoulder, her touch warm and steady. “You’re already taking the first step by getting help, Jackie. That’s huge. Kelly Anne... we both know she’s strong. She loves you, and she’s not going anywhere.”

  I nod, though the lump in my throat makes it hard to speak. I fold the towel and set it on the counter, trying to steady myself. “Do you think it’ll help?” I ask quietly. “Therapy, I mean. Do you think it’ll make a difference?”

  Mom smiles softly, her hand still resting on my shoulder. “It made a difference for me,” she says. “It’s not a magic fix, but it gives you tools, and they have medication to help stabilize you while you work on fixing the root issues.” She pauses, her eyes searching mine. “You’re already so strong. This is just another way to take care of yourself.”

  I take a deep breath and shrug. “I don’t think I’m that strong. Stubborn, yes, and definitely opinionated, but I don’t believe strong is a word I’d use.”

  Mom chuckles softly, shaking her head. “Stubborn, opinionated... those are just another way of saying strong, Jackie. You’ve been dealing with things that most people can’t even imagine, and you’re still here, still fighting. That’s strength.”

  I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms under my breasts. “Maybe,” I mutter, not entirely convinced. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just biding time until the next spiral hits.”

  Mom tilts her head, studying me. “You know, it’s okay to not have all the answers. You’ve finally decred who you are, and that’s what matters. Therapy and medication will aid you while you learn how to handle these spirals.”

  I chew on my bottom lip, letting her statement sink in.

  ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

  I’m lying on my bed reading when Mom pokes her head into my room and says, “Baby, you need to change into something nice. We have to meet Mr. Devry at the courthouse to sign your name change paperwork!”

  I groan dramatically, tossing my book aside. “Do I have to? What’s wrong with a t-shirt and shorts? It’s not like Mr. Devry’s going to care what I’m wearing.”

  Mom gives me that look—the one that says, ‘Don’t even go there, young dy.’ She steps into the room, hands on her hips. “Two reasons. This is a big moment, Jackie, and it’s a courthouse. Put on something that is dressy-casual.”

  I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling a little. “Fine,” I huff. “If I’m going to dress up, then take me out to eat lunch.”

  Mom ughs, shaking her head. “Deal. Now hurry up—we don’t want to keep Mr. Devry waiting.” She disappears back into the hallway, her footsteps fading as she heads downstairs.

  I drag myself off the bed and pad to my closet, flipping through the hangers. “Dressy-casual, huh?” I mutter to myself. At my dresser, I undress and change my lingerie, slipping on a padded push-up bra and cy panties. Then head over to my closet and look around before finally pulling out a floral sleeveless sundress and stiletto heels. I slip into the outfit, then sit at my vanity to buckle my heels around my slim ankles. I quickly put my hair up, apply light makeup, add a few pieces of jewelry, and add a spritz of perfume.

  I give myself a once-over in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of the dress. “Not bad,” I mutter with a smirk. “Not bad at all for a throw-together.”

  When I head downstairs, Mom is waiting by the door, her purse slung over her shoulder. She looks me up and down and nods approvingly. “See? Was that so hard? You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes again, but a small smile tugs at my lips. “Now, where are we eating? I’m starving.”

  Mom ughs, opening the door and ushering me out. “Paperwork first, young dy. After we take care of that and you thank Mr. Devry for getting you into Starlight, then we’ll eat lunch.”

  We step outside into the warm afternoon sun, and I shield my eyes with my hand. The breeze carries the scent of freshly cut grass, and I can hear the distant hum of a wnmower somewhere down the street. Mom unlocks the car, and I slide into the passenger seat, smoothing my dress over my knees.

  As we drive to the courthouse, I fiddle with the hem of my dress. “Mom,” I say, breaking the silence. “What if... what is the likelihood of the judge saying no?”

  Mom gnces at me briefly before turning her attention back to the road. “Zero chance. Mr. Devry isn’t one to leave things to chance. Before he even submitted the paperwork, he had all his ducks lined up. All we have to do is sign it, and he’ll file it with the court. In a few days, we’ll get your amended birth certificate, get you a new state ID, and have the school amend your transcripts. Easy-peasy. Bing, bang, boom.”

  I nod, but my stomach still churns with nerves. “Bing, bang, boom, huh? Easy isn’t a word I would use when it comes to me, Mom.”

  Mom reaches over and squeezes my knee. “Sometimes things should be easy, Jackie. You’ve had enough hardship.”

  I take a deep breath and settle back into my seat for the rest of the ride. The courthouse comes into view, its tall columns and wide steps looking more intimidating than I remember. Mom parks the car, and we walk up together, our heels clicking against the pavement.

  Inside the courthouse is cool and quiet—the kind of quiet that makes you want to whisper even if there’s no one around. The air smells faintly of floor wax and old paper. Mom leads the way with me clutching my purse like it’s some kind of lifeline as we make our way to the elevator to go to the court clerk's office.

  We round a corner, and there he is—Mr. Devry, standing by a bench with a leather briefcase at his feet. He’s tall and impeccably dressed in a navy suit, his dark hair neatly combed. He looks up, spotting us, and a warm smile spreads across his face. “Jackie! Mrs. Stetson, perfect timing.”

  “Hello, Mr. Devry,” I reply in a casual tone.

  He gestures to the bench. “Let’s sit for a moment and go over everything before we head in. Sound good?”

  I nod, smoothing my skirt under me as I perch on the edge of the bench. Mom sits beside me as Mr. Devry opens his briefcase and pulls out a stack of papers, neatly organized with tabs sticking out like little fgs. He flips through them quickly, finding the one he needs.

  “Alright, Jackie,” he says, his voice calm and reassuring. “This is the petition for your name and gender change. Everything’s filled out—we just need your signature here, here, and here.” He points to the highlighted sections with a pen.

  I take the pen from him, my hand trembling slightly because I can barely believe this is happening. I gnce at Mom, who gives me an encouraging nod. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” she says softly.

  I take a deep breath and sign in the pces he indicated. I hand the pen back to him, and he says, “Your turn, Mrs. Stetson. You need to sign underneath where Jackie did.”

  Mom takes the pen from Mr. Devry, leans over the papers, and quickly signs her name. She hands the pen back to Mr. Devry, who looks over the documents one st time before nodding.

  I stand too, smoothing my dress again, and remember I need to do something. “Mr. Devry,” I call out. He stops and looks at me. “Thank you for all your help, especially for calling in a favor to get me into Starlight.”

  He smiles and gently pats my shoulder. “Jackie, do you know why I went out of my way to help you?” I simply shake my head. “My daughter wasn’t born my daughter.”