The shuttles takes off, slowly moving through the sky, heading toward somewhere, and I can feel your comforting presence. What am I doing? Where am I going? I should check that, but instead I flop against a wall and slowly slide down it, wrapping myself up.

Why did he tell me to run? What happened there? Why did I run instead of begging him to help? Why didn’t I try to reason with him. The look in his eyes. The sheer ferocity of his hate. Am I shaking? My ghostly pale hand hovers in front of my eyes, trembling. Why am I so scared? I don’t understand!

Where can I even go? I’m so well known it would be hard to evade attention. Your presence next to me is my only comfort. I’d tried to ignore you for so long. I’d been convinced I could do everything; that I could solve the world’s problems, but here we are. Just you and I again.

Nathan. Nathan might know what to do. He might be willing to hide me for a short time while I figure out where to go next. But Patrick knew about Nathan. I’d seen it in his memories that Melanie had told him about me slipping out and he’d checked the shuttle logs. He wouldn’t think I would go back to him would he? Should I go? It was my only option right now. But what if he turns me away. He never came when I reserved a seat for him at events.

But that last promise. I’d promised to come back to him. I had to at least tell him the truth. I needed my disguise. I would have to stop by Patrick’s home.

“Shuttle, take me to the McNeil penthouse.”

“In route.” If this shuttle was already in route to the McNeil penthouse, who had told it to go there? I hadn’t said anything. Why was it already going there? Had Patrick programmed it go there? I hadn’t headed back to that place in a couple days, living in my office. Had I set it to go back there after the opening of the shelter?

The shuttle stops, and I slowly stand, take a deep breath and stride forward. Technically this is also my residence. Melanie is there.

“Ma’am, that speech was one of your best. I am sure the people loved it. It was what we really needed to interrupt all that media coverage of that small group of rioters.” Melanie’s words barely register with me. She seems so happy and excited, but I’m not sure why. I’ve never seen her this emotional before.

“Melanie, do you still have my brown dress I came in?”

Her excitement seems to diminish. “Why do you want that?”

“I need to head out into the city.” I can’t tell her more. I know she will probably tell Patrick.

“What for Ma’am?”

Her curiosity will be my bane. “To see a person.”

“Oh. That again. Well then. Come in. Wait in your room and I’ll go get it.” She scurries away, and I head in through the open front entrance. I take my shoes off, and leave them there. It will probably be the last time I ever wear those plain black heels. I head into my room, this massive luxury I should have never been introduced to. This world isn’t my world. I am of the dregs of society. I should have stayed where I belonged.

I start to unbutton my dress, and then stop. Should I say goodbye to Azalea? I’ve barely talked to her, but she always seems so lonely and lost.

Melanie will be coming back here. “Room, tell Melanie when she comes in that I’m talking to Azalea.”

I walk to the study where I’ve often seen Azalea. Sure enough she is there, staring out a window. “Have you ever thought of going out there?” I ask.

She looks at me. Tilts her head. “Hope. That’s your name, right?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I can go out there. I have this feeling that the world hates me.” Her gaze drifts back to the window and she lays her hand on it. “No one ever wants to talk to me. Heck, even my supposed husband never seems to say much. Just sits there staring at me like he has no idea what to do with me.”

I now understand Patrick’s inability to say anything to this lost soul. “I’m sorry.”

She smiles, but it’s a sad half attempt at a smile. “Everyone’s always sorry. That’s all people say. Like I’m some mistake they can’t fix.”

I shouldn’t have come here. I back away. “I wish that one day, we can be friends, but right now, I have to go.”

Her face lights up in a true smile. “I’d like that. I’d like to be friends. When you get back, can we talk more?”

I nod. I can’t trust my words right now. I flee the study. I should have never gone to say goodbye to that wisp of a person who was once the mighty and fierce Azalea.

I run back to my room. Melanie is still not back. I wonder where she is. No matter. I unhook the top of my slim black dress, pull the zipper down, strip it off, and throw it off. I am not that person anymore.

The door opens and Melanie walks in. “Hope is talking to Azalea.”

Melanie looks surprised, and looks at me.

“Sorry, I set the room to say that while I went and talked to Azalea. I forgot to unset it when I got back.”

She nods. “Yes. computers always do as they are told. It took a little while, but I also managed to find you a new pair of boots that will work with this outfit. I couldn’t have you wearing those old worn out ones anymore. I also took the liberty of upgrading the outfit a bit.”

Oh no. Would it still work as a disguise?

“Don’t worry, the top pieces are still that same nasty brown material, patched and cleaned, but I got you a dress that fit underneath so you wouldn’t have to wear the nasty scratchy material against your skin. I can only imagine how inflamed that pale, sensitive, weak skin of yours will get wearing this.”

I hug her. I hadn’t even thought about anything like that. I’ve never properly appreciated Melanie. “Thank you.” I say.

Melanie smiles. “Now Ma’am, let’s get you dressed for your visit.”

She holds up the new piece she mentioned. It’s a thin light blue dress she holds up. Long sleeve, turtle neck, and floor length with a seam at the waist allowing the skirts to flare out from the waist. She helps me put it on and it fits like a glove.

I reach for the brown shift, but she puts her hand on mine. “Wait Ma’am if you’re going out we should darken your complexion.” She motions toward the vanity. Make-up? It’s like she knows I want to go into hiding. Maybe that’s only reasonable with what’s on the news.

I go over and sit in the chair next to the vanity. I wish I could look in the mirror as she does my make-up. This is taking too long. What if Patrick comes back soon?

She finishes and turns the stool towards the mirror. My face… It doesn’t look like me. It’s so much darker, like a normal person. She’s even somehow darked the roots of my hair. My eyebrows and eyelashes are black.

I reach up to touch the face, to make sure it’s my own, and she stops me. “Don’t touch it. You don’t want to run it off and ruin the illusion.”

I nod. This disguise is perfect. I wonder if Nathan will even recognize me looking like this.

“Now let’s finish dressing you.”

I stand up, and she slips the brown shift over my head. It covers most of the dress. A little blue peaks out around the edges of the sleeves and the collar. I grab the head scarf and start to wrap it around, but Melanie takes it from me.

“You know, if you wrap the headscarf properly, you can cover your hair perfectly as well as your pale white neck.” She carefully wraps it up, and the blue around my neck is gone. The girl in the mirror looks like one of the muslim women, except for the ghostly white hands.

She hands me black gloves. “Make sure to keep your hands covered or the illusion is broken.”

She steps back, looking me over. “Now you are better covered.” She stops after she says this, and her smile fades to a straight, serious look. “And while you wear this, remember the brave women who have fought to be allowed to continue to dress like this. The women who have faced much harassment and criticism so that they can continue to dress as they believe they should according to their religious beliefs. Remember them, and while you wear it, uphold their beliefs and follow their ways so that you do not destroy that privilege.”

I nod. I hadn’t expected Melanie to get so serious about my choice of disguise. She hadn’t said anything last time I wore it. Maybe it had been bothering her since I last wore it. “I will remember that, and I won’t do anything while wearing this to destroy their religious privilege.”

She smiles again and steps forward, reaching her arms around me, hugging me. “Thank you Ma’am. I’ll make sure no one notices you leaving or when you come back.”

“Thanks Melanie. I appreciate it.” I don’t mention that I won’t be coming back. I can’t.

She steps back again, and this time she immediately goes to pick up the dropped dress. “Now go on. You’ll want to be home before Patrick gets back I assume.”

Of course. I want to be gone from their world before he gets back. “See you later, Melanie.” I lie.

She waves in a gesture that is partially a goodbye and partially a shoo. “Go on. Stop lingering.”

It strikes me again how different she is from when I first met her. She didn’t seem to care about anything when I first met her, but now she put in the effort to help me disguise myself. She is right though. I can’t linger here much longer.

I walk out, calmly, like this is an everyday occurrence, and the doors open as they always do for me. The shuttle is still there, waiting for me to tell it where to go. I step on and listen to its welcoming phrase when not set on auto navigation, “Where to, Governor Hope.”

It’s strange how the machines always know who I am. But that doesn’t matter right now. Right now I need to get away, and at the same time not be too close to Nathan’s place that I will tip Patrick off. “Dock’s station 5.”

That stop is also close to Lizzie’s old hideout, so he might think I am going there. I have enough memories collected of this area that navigating to Nathan’s from there is fairly easy.

The shuttle starts off, heading into the airway traffic that will take it towards my next stop. The docks are a distance away, so I sit down on one of the fold out seats. I’m glad you’re still with me.

I’m glad you’ve been with me through this whole fiasco. Maybe I’ve been too harsh on you in the past, exporting more out of you than just your company. Maybe that’s all you are, my imaginary friend I created for company. Or maybe you are the shape of my conscious? Or maybe you are the ghost of Lily, the girl who used to own this body. I don’t really care anymore though. You are whoever you are, my ghostly companion.