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“Are you sure you don’t want a piece?” Margaret’s voice was concerned.
“Just a bite, please. My stomach’s been upset.” I answered, realizing it would be rude to refuse the birthday cake. After the fight with my parents earlier in the morning, I’d lost my appetite. I was feeling confused and miserable. How was I going to explain a teenage female assassin as my sudden choice in life? Zandra was right. No normal person would do what I was doing now.
“It’s carrot cake. Your favorite.” Margaret smiled as she cut a small piece.
“How did you- oh, that’s right.” I answered my own question. The time before… I suddenly wanted to ask Margaret many questions, but realized now was not appropriate. I looked up and smiled at her group of young friends all gathered around the table. They all seemed to be from her school, and just as nice as she was. Their curiosity with me was evident on their faces, and the red-haired one, Myra, leaned forward, looking at me.
“So how old did you say you are?” she asked me point-blank, adjusting her glasses.
“Twenty-six.” I answered, watching their eyes widen.
“And you’re not married?” the smallest one looked at me in awe. I shook my head.
“You don’t want to get married?” Myra asked, her brows furrowed in puzzlement.
“Sure she does. She’s going to-” Margaret started to speak, but I cut her off quickly.
“I wanted to, when I was younger. But my parents wouldn’t let me.”
“Really?” Margaret was now at attention, setting down the cake knife. “What was his name?”
I closed my eyes and sighed. This was always the hard part. “Williston Vreinhager.”
I heard the snickering and nodded my head. “Yes, that was really his name.”
“No wonder they didn’t want you to marry him.” A blonde girl giggled.
“Sarah, that’s not very nice.” Margaret gently chastised her. “I’m sure there was a real reason.”
“The reason was that I was too young, that’s all.” I shrugged my shoulders. I made it sound so simple- but at the time, it had torn me apart, and damaged my relationship with my parents. Just like what I’m going through now.
“How young?” Sarah chirped up, interrupting my thoughts.
“Did you have sex with him?” Myra piped up, and I heard everyone gasp.
“Myra!” Margaret’s mouth was open and she pointed to the little girl at the end of the table. “Reticia is here!”
“I really should be going anyway.” I cleared my throat, not wanting to be the center of the conversation any longer. The memories I could do without, especially now.
“I’ll walk you to the door.” Margaret scowled at her friends, who meekly waved goodbye.
It surprised me that she took my hand and led me down the hallway; I certainly remembered where I was going. It felt somewhat reassuring, so I let myself relax and walk with her.
“You’re upset.” she observed, squeezing my hand.
“I'm fine.” I lied. “It will pass.”
“But you came here upset.” She looked at me, waiting, but I didn’t answer her. We stopped at the door.
“I’m sorry about Williston. Whatever happened to him?” she looked up at me.
“By the time I was old enough to marry without consent, he’d married someone else.” I sighed. “That’s just how life happens sometimes.”
“Well, now you have Madlax.” She smiled up at me. “So this time will be better.”
“So last time- before…I didn’t have Will?” I wondered out loud, hoping she might know. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.
“No men. I never saw one.” She held up her fingers in a “zero” formation to make her point. “Not one, the whole time you lived here.”
“I lived here? With you?” I was confused now, too many thoughts were racing through my head.
“We were neighbors.” She nodded her head at the door. “You lived on the same floor.”
“Oh. I see.” A sudden thought flashed through my head. “You said no men- does that mean no one at all, or does that mean…” I trailed off, somewhat embarrassed at my question. Margaret dropped her head down and scuffed the floor with her shoe.
“Well- you did have one... visitor... she was-”
“No!” I cried out, covering her mouth. “That’s enough. I don’t want to know anymore. Thank you. Goodnight. Happy Birthday.” The words spilled out as I rushed out the door, feeling overwhelmed at this new information.

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