“I just don’t get it,” she said, her voice wavering. “They act like they’ve never been sixteen before. I mean, yeah, sure, we hear on the news all the time about the kids who got enhancements and ended up half dead. But don’t they trust me? Don’t they know I’d never get anything too wild done? I’m not begging for steel inserts to adjust my height—although that would save me a fortune on conventional shoes.”
When Kevin had dumped her after she’d discovered his infidelity, he’d left the apartment in a rush. Karen found the tickets for the cruise as she moved from room to room in a rage, determined to scrub the entire 800 square feet of his presence. He hadn’t left much—a few books and magazines, which she’d thrown with great flourish into the recycling bin—and a spare toothbrush, which went into the trash.
The bills kept coming. The money kept going out. Pretty soon they stopped opening the envelopes that were coming in. Didn’t stop the envelopes none. Or the phone calls. They had to sell Kenny’s laptop two years ago, so Marie figured the emails were coming too but she couldn’t read any of them no more.