“What?” She blinks in confusion until she realizes what word I’m butchering. “No, not pakhan. It’s still a man’s world, after all. But he’ll make me vor. That’s the next best thing.” Then, quieter: “No woman has ever been vor before. I intend to be the first.”
I must be going insane. Because this is Petra—harpy-grip, threatens-my-baby-in-Russian Petra—and yet… and yet, I feel for her. If anyone knows what it’s like to be overlooked because of the circumstances of your birth, that’s me.
And besides—Jesus H. and all his friends, it’s the twenty-first century. Would it kill men to stop thinking with their d***s?
Says the gal currently making life-altering decisions based on her uterus, a voice whispers in my mind. And/or c******s.
Goddammit. I hate when the voices are right.
“I hope you
