Chapter 5

10 YEARS AGO - Diana pressed her hopeful face against the window as she watched the driveway. She grew unsure of how long she sat in the same position in her room, curled in a ball on the window seat.

“MOM!” Out of frustration, she bellowed. “I thought you said Jenny was coming over!” When she didn’t receive a response, Diana hopped off the seat and dashed through the door, ripping down the stairs, two-at-a-time before jumping down the last four. “MOM!” She screamed again.

“I-AM-ON-THE-PHONE!” Rochelle whipped around the corner and grabbed Diana’s collar. She pushed her into the nearby study and closed the door after her. “Hello?” Rochelle resumed on her conversation. “Yes, sorry. My daughter. So don’t we know why the first quarter budget files were corrupted?”

As Rochelle’s voice faded down the hall, Diana made herself comfortable on the sofa, where she had a full view of the driveway. Heart occasionally skipped a beat in anticipation. Soon she heard the echos of a motorcycle engine, then the blurred figure jetting up the winding driveway. “MOM!” Diana yelled. “IT’S JENNY!”

The cyclist came to a stop several meters from the front door. Jenny’s figure was the spitting image of Diana’s envy; She was a tall, slender woman with buzzcut blonde hair. Rochelle rushed out to meet her, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that Jenny was also the spitting image of Rochelle.

Diana watched her mother retrieve pull a small package from her coat pocket and unceremoniously passed it to the younger woman. The pair shared a few short words before Rochelle turned back to the house. As Jenny counted the thick stack of bills within the envelope, she looked up at the window at the sound of the little round girl knocking happily.

Diana waved the most exciting wave, much to Jenny’s dismay, who threw up a single wave before hopping on her bike and revved the engine. Within another few seconds, she was zooming down the driveway again, disappearing around the patch of evergreens leading to the main road.

Disappointed, dejected, but not surprised, Diana moped back to her room and flipped open her home. After speed-dailing the first number, she waited for the other side to pick up. “Hey,” Diana said flatly.

“Hey,” Maddi replied.

“I just saw Jenny,” Diana said. “She came to get money from Mom.”

“I saw her in town the other day,” Maddi added. “But she wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Me neither,” Diana sighed. “She’s so cool, though.”

“Yeah,” Maddi swooned too. “How many other sisters do you think we have?”

“We’ll never know. Our futa-sisters hate us because we’re so close to Mom.” Diana said. Then she hesitated before asking a difficult question. “Maddi, do you hate me? Y’know, because I get to live with Mom?”

A moment of static silence blurred before Maddi answered. “No, Di. Of course not. I have my own Mom.”

“I love you, Maddi.” Diana sniffled. “You’re my best friend.”

Typing away on her laptop for well over two hours, Maddi found herself pleasantly surprised. The coursework at Moringa was much more challenging than she anticipated. She continued to work diligently on her historical analysis of the 19th amendment to the U.S. constitution until her thin fingers were cramped.

“I shouldn’t have doubted you, Mom.” Maddi smiled to herself. She reclined in her chair and stared outside her dorm window. The fading purple sun still warmed her face. “I’m so lucky to be here,” She said.

Then Maddi’s muscles tensed as the dorm flew open. Mallory slung her back to the floor and hopped on her bed. Pulling her phone from the back pocket of her skinny black jeans, Mallory busied herself in a text message as Maddi returned to her typing. This studious silence continued for several minutes until.

“Maddi,” Mallory said. Maddi didn’t respond, but instead ceased typing and turned to her dorm mate. “I know we haven’t talked much, but I need to ask you for a favor.”

“You treat me like shit for a month, then ask me for a favor?” Maddi cocked her brow.

“Never mind.” Mallory rolled over and returned to texting.

Maddi took several measured breaths, feeling less tense. “What is it?”

Mallory dropped on her phone. She brushed her shaggy ginger bangs from her eyes and straightened her lips. “I need you to help me with a DNA test.”

“Oh?” Maddi perked up. She recently acquired much experience in her many paternity tests and was happy to help. “But I didn’t think you had any kids.”

“I don’t.” Mallory sighed. She pulled her elbows in and propped herself up. “In this case, I’m the kid.” Then a painful pause. “And I want to see if we’re sisters.”

“You?” Maddi gasped. “And me?” She allowed the words to hit her. “So you want to see if Rochelle Masters is your futa-mom.”

“Wanna know what a lot of the girls in my group home thought?” Mallory asked. “They said your mom made those shelters for futanari so she’d have a place to store all her children.”

“Yeah,” Maddi said under her breath. “I can see why you’d think that. But it’s hard to imagine because s-she was,”

“An actual parent to you?” Mallory finished. “It’s like she had two tiers of offspring, the few she saw and cared for, and everybody else.”

“She tried her best,” Maddi started. “She gave money to whoever--”

“She was a deadbeat.” Mallory spat. “I don’t care how you spin it. She could’ve given away her whole fortune. What if I just wanted to be held?” Mallory coughed out her tears, not realizing how much she worked herself up. “I’m sorry,” She recoiled. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I don’t even know if she’s my futa-mom.”

“No, it’s okay.” Maddi reasoned. “Even if you’re not my sister, I know there’s plenty of them that were never held.”

“Anyway,” Mallory sighed. “They’ve got those mail-in tests at the drug store. I’ll walk into town and get one.”

“Want some company?” Maddi tried to smile.

Mallory said nothing but nodded after some thought.

Diana stewed at the table alone. The white overhead lights shone with a harsh brightness, making the visiting room appear well-lit, but cold and sterile. As she watched the dozen other inmates meetings with loved ones, she wondered what she’d say to her mother if Rochelle walked in.

“Having fun yet?” Diana’s mother smirked as she sat down across from the smooth white table, a look a pity covered her face. “Diana, what are you doing here?”

“You know why I’m here,” Diana muttered, looking away. “I hurt that girl.”

“Uh, huh,” Rochelle nodded. “And when are you going to pay for what you did to the house?”

“Mom,” Diana whispered.

“Seriously, Di,” Rochelle asked. “Why’d you do that?”

“You know why,” Diana glared. “That house was a prison.”

Rochelle laughed. “As opposed to this?”

“You know what I mean!” Diana snapped. “You never cared about us. Christy and I only lived with you because our Mom died. She loved you, but all she was to you was just another girl you couldn’t stop coming in. She killed herself over it, and you took us in out of guilt.”

Rochelle sat speechless as tears stream down her daughter’s face.

Diana sniffled and blotted her eyes with her sleeves. “I understand why you kept fucking my Mom. You’re my Futa-Mom, and I’m just like you. I can’t stop either. But for the love of God, why couldn’t you have just come down her throat that night instead of making me?!?”

“Diana?” Mary asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Diana looked up. Her visitor finally walked in. Then she glanced at the empty seat, dumbfounded. “Nothing,” She wiped her face again. “Nobody. Please sit down.”

Mary hesitated, running her angular, skeletal fingers through the frays of faded red hair. But her resolve strengthened once Diana recovered from her episode. Garbed in a modest outfit of light-washed denim and long sleeve navy polo, the waif of a woman sat cross-legged across from Diana and smiled. “It’s nice to see you again, Diana.”

Diana blushed. “I can’t tell you how much it means for you to come to visit me.”

“I think I owe you that much.” Mary maintained a modest tone. “You’ve been a great deal of support for me as well. Thank you for helping me get over your sister.”

“To be honest, I’m not over her either.” Diana sighed. “Maddi is a sickness. Even when you recover, you’re still scarred for life.” Then her face softened with a half-smile. “Were you able to make that delivery we talked about? And were you able to record her reaction?” Once Mary gave a timid nod, she smiled. “Good girl.”

“I feel guilty,” Mary stretched her stringy arms across the table.

“Don’t buckle on me now, love.” Diana cooed. “We’re just getting started. Is it okay if I call you that?”

Mary’s alabaster skin reddened, and she smiled awkwardly. “No, I don’t mind. The letter you sent me was very romantic. And the story you wrote along with it was sexy.” She gushed. “But the main character seemed so pretty. I have a hard time believing it was me you were writing about.”

“Of course it was, love,” Diana said. The tips of her dried pink lips turned upward as her voice dropped into a seductive octave. “All the things that I did to her in my story, I want to do with you.”

“Wow,” Mary whispered. “But what about Maddi? You want to do things to her too?”

“Oh, yeah.” Diana glared with wide, predatory eyes. “She’s going to get what she deserves. I think she’ll enjoy it at first, but before she understands what’s happening, it’ll be too late.”

“I don’t know,” Mary cleared her throat and laughed with nervous energy. “At one point, I loved Maddi. She was my girlfriend. And even though she betrayed me, it’s hard to think we’re plotting to--”

“SHH!!” Diana grabbed her arm and hushed Mary with the utmost urgency. “Mary, you do NOT repeat what we’re going to do to her in this building. Do you understand?”

Mary recoiled, feeling scolded. “I’m sorry.”

But Diana smiled. “It’s okay, love. You’re still angry at her.”

“Yeah,” Mary admitted. “Especially now that she’s at Moringa University, able to start a new life.”

“She’ll be back.” Diana squeezed Mary’s thin wrist. “And we’ll wait. I’ll be out in another year.” Then a table in the far corner caught her eye. Jackie sat across from a board, muscular man in designer jeans and bright flannel. She initially suspected they were related, but the way they held hands suggested otherwise. “Hmm,” She hummed to herself.

“Is something wrong?” Mary asked, head whipping around.

“It’s probably nothing,” Diana replied. “That’s my cellmate over there. Her visitor looks familiar. But I can’t imagine where I’ve seen him.”

“Are you like her?” Mallory’s blunt question busted the silence as the pair slid across the uneven payment. She swung the plastic bag behind her that banged against her exposed knee.

“No,” Maddi said quickly. She knew what her roommate meant. “I mean, I’m trying to be the best person I can be.”

“That sounds suspicious,” Mallory quipped.

“I have a lot to make up for,” Maddi confessed.

“That’s a respectable thing to say.” Mallory’s voice sounded encouraging. “But how?”

“Come again?” Maddi stopped.

“How are you going to make up for it?” Mallory repeated. She looked around at what was once a quiet, rural main street. Now car sped by the multi-lane road at 30mph. She raised her voice to carry over the roaring engines. “Like what are you doing to make yourself better?”