SEREN
I
’m standing in front of the mirror, wrestling with my necklace clasp, when my phone rings. Just one push and the clasp will click into place. But as the phone starts to ring again, I set the damned thing aside and answer, just in case it’s an emergency.
It’s an unknown number. Great.
“Hello?” I answer politely. It could be work-related, after all.
After ten seconds of silence, I switch to speaker mode, ready to snap at whoever is on the other end when an automated voice drones out: “Hello, this is a courtesy reminder about your scheduled procedure tomorrow at Early Options Clinic in Brooklyn.”
My heart drops as the voice continues about pre-procedure protocols. I squeeze my eyes shut, guilt tightening in my gut. I push the choker to the side. I don’t think I can wear it tonig
