Her concerned expression brought me back to my current reality. I wished I hadn’t grabbed my dress so quickly earlier, wished I had actually investigated the inside of the trunk. If I had, I might have noticed there were slips.

Now what?

The blush on my face was real. The only person I’d ever changed in front of was my mother. And Anamae, of course. Anamae. Sadness swept over me as I realized how much I already missed her. How much more I would miss her. But she won’t feel the same way, I reminded myself. In Anamae’s world, I never existed.

“She’s a little shy,” Calla said.

I smiled at my sister. Although she hadn’t let on, she must have noticed how uncomfortable I was when I changed clothes earlier. I guessed Calla had noticed how I’d tried to cover myself with my dress as I slid out of my jeans.

“Oh, come here, dear,” Nettie said. She hugged me tightly and stroked my hair. “Your One will be very proud of your modesty.” After motioning at me to turn around, she held a robe between us. “Go ahead,” she said, indicating with a nod I was to undress.

I slipped out of my dress and into the robe. Nettie’s disapproval was evident in her voice. “Where’s your slip?” she asked.

“I forgot to put it on,” I said. “I was just so eager to get the day started.”

Nettie smiled. “That’s okay, sweetie.” She snapped her finger at a girl who was moving from group to group, carrying tiny teacups on a silver tray.

The girl came to us, offering tea. She didn’t make eye contact, choosing instead to keep her eyes downcast as if she were memorizing the details of the wooden floor. The girl was plain with a yellowish tinge to her complexion. She was the youngest of what I could only describe as one of the helper women.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a teacup from her tray.

“We do not speak to the Extras,” Nettie said, chastising me.

Startled, I glanced at Calla, who gave me a warning look. I took the hint, amazed by how quickly we’d adopted a secret sister-code.

“Please bring Penny a slip,” Nettie said.

The girl nodded. She placed her tray on a nearby table and silently left the room, returning moments later with a beige-colored slip. Nettie did the routine with holding the robe up for me again while I put the garment on. I tried to catch the girl’s eye, but she’d been well-trained in being invisible.

Nettie had also been well-trained. It was only a matter of minutes before she had recorded half a dozen or so numbers, wrapping her measuring tape around various sections of Calla’s body. She jotted everything down in her journal, then motioned me over.