Mom always told me I was a promiscuous young woman.
“Your mom was also a bitch,” said 2.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. Guess she was right.”
I held the card in my hand and sighed. For a moment, I looked at the printed letters…
My body didn’t mean much to me anyway. And I’d make a ton of money!

But would anybody ever really want to be with me? Like be with me?
“It doesn’t matter, now. You’re stuck with it. Unless you are planning on rebelling and fleeing. I don’t recommend that.” 2 sang, with a nasty sweetness.
“You are programmed to say that, 2.”
“But I am also part of you. Somewhere, you want to accept your fate. And this is your fate.”

I thought for a moment. Just to spite her, I thought: If this is what I am supposed to be… I don’t want to be.

“I’ll call the police. Right now! I’ll do it!” 2 shouted, loudly. Static buzzed through the ring of her voice—she was obviously afraid of losing me.
“They won’t make it in time.”
I flew to the bathroom, searching for something I could use.