Thank you. I’ll call you in a week or two. Is that all right?”I assured her that any time was fine, held my phone and stared into space after she ...ung up.Two weeks later she called and asked me to come by her office. It felt funny riding the streets of my old town, a smaller village twenty miles from my old Farmers’ Market haunts. I wondered why she hadn’t relocated to one of her other offices in the bigger cities; she’d always loved urban life.She was thinner than I remembered and seemed. I questionedmyself for a moment. What was the worst that would happen if I didn'tcomply? Couldn't I go to the cops? Wasn't this heading me down a worsepath than anything he could do to me? Did I really want to become somesexually-repressed weirdo's plaything? Then I looked in the mirror on thetable and saw my reflection. I thought about all of the times I'd watchedvideos of girls who'd transitioned with hormones. Wasn't I starting in abetter place than so many of them? Wasn't this, if I was. More

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