I called in sick to work Monday and Tuesday, as many days as I could take before I needed a doctor’s note. During that time, I barricaded myself in my room, hidden from both Caryn and the sprinkling of reporters that tried to get in touch. At first, Caryn was more than happy to answer the door for once, eagerly spilling the beans on her roommate-in-seclusion. I don’t know what Shiloh said to her to make it stop but she put an abrupt end to it. These days she spends her time packing up her things to move out. Good riddance.

By Wednesday, I have to face the fact that unless I can somehow spontaneously make myself vomit on the front steps of Belmont’s—where oh where are obnoxious reporters when you need them?—I’m going to have to face the fire with my coworkers.

I get in early. The last thing I want is the embarrassment of walking in under a sea of scrutiny from curious eyes. By the time everyone else arrives, I have my headset on and I’m focused intently on my computer screen even though no emails or calls have come in yet.

Holly is the first to arrive. She actually jumps a little, like a scared bunny, when she sees me. She stares for a moment, with wide eyes, before casting them firmly down and skittering to her desk.

Peter is next. He once again stares at me like I’m some newfound species, with a mixture of fascination and confusion.

Jermaine is last as usual, casually breezing in as though the weekend is still surrounding him, only to evaporate as he settles into his chair with a loud and forlorn sigh, bidding it goodbye.

I make darn sure to avoid his gaze in particular. Holly would be too embarrassed to speak up. Peter, too confused, at least based on his expression. Jermaine has no concept of the word discretion.

“Are we just gonna ignore the elephant in the room then?” he asks, looking to Holly, then Peter, then me. “Don’t even think you can hide behind that headset, girl. Ain’t nobody callin’ right now to complain about their damn silk sheets or Versace dresses. You better remove that thing. Ya girl has questions!”

“Jermaine,” Holly says in a voice that’s part pleading, part warning, but also part curious.

“Don’t you Jermaine me,” he sasses, “Admit it, you just as curious as I am, honey.”

“So, um…are you really Faith Flanders?” Peter is the one to finally ask it, staring at me hard as though trying to find that typical Flanders girl—the one who makes Little House on the Prairie seem like one of those Kardashian shows—underneath the Prynne Dawson he’s known for the past two years.

I snatch off my headset with a huff. “Okay fine! Yes, I’m Faith Flanders. Here’s what’s going to happen. Y’all get exactly today to ask any questions you have. After that, we drop it.”

“Yes, yes,” Jermaine says rolling his eyes. He brings them back down with a glare directed at me. “What I wanna know is, where you been hiding’ this closet freak thing you got goin’ on? They teach you that stuff in that—what do they call ‘em Quiverfulls?”

“See? This is exactly why I didn’t tell y’all anything. I knew you’d just—”

“Oh girl, you know I’m just teasin’,” Jermaine says, reaching a hand across his desk to tap mine. “I’m the last person on earth to be judgin’ anyone. Listen here, to me and everyone else in this room, you always gonna be Miss Prynne Dawson, and I personally will snatch the wig off anyone who comes at you with this mess.”

He looks around, first at Holly, who speaks up. “Of course! I mean, it was…interesting to learn you’re a Flanders, and then the hotel thing, well…” she turns beet red, “but that doesn’t change the way I think of you.”

“That’s right, honey,” Jermaine says, giving her a satisfied smile then turns to Peter.

With all eyes on him, he shrugs. “What? Look who I have to sit next to every day.” He tilts his head to Jermaine. “Do you honestly think anything shocks me anymore?”

“Boy,” Jermaine chides, slapping him on the arm playfully. “At any rate,” he says, bringing his attention back to me. “You are family here, don’t ever feel like you have to hide who you are from us.”

“Thank you,” I say, starting to feel tears come to my eyes. I don’t know why I thought these people would be anything other than supportive when they found out. They really are like family.

It just reminds me of my real family back home. By now they have to know everything. I doubt they would be this supportive.

“Do they really have orgies in the bar at the top of the Sexton Hotel?” Holly asks, in a suspiciously too interested manner. “I read somewhere that at some of the parties—”

“What?” I laugh, feeling even more tears involuntarily erupt from my eyes.

“Honey, hush!” Jermaine says, wrinkling his brow at her. “What in the world you been reading where they say that? And better yet, where do I subscribe?”

That makes me laugh harder. Even Holly is giggling through the flush that has crept up her neck. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye to this one as well.

“Wait a second, y’all had internet? Isn’t that forbidden?” Jermaine asks.

We’ve been talking about me all morning, mostly focusing on the Flanders Flock which is surprisingly more interesting to my coworkers than the fact that I was caught on camera giving a blow job to my naked boyfriend (boyfriend?) in front of an open window.

“We weren’t Amish, Jermaine,” I say rolling my eyes. “I mean, obviously there were filters in place, but—”

I’m interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I pick it up as my stomach lurches a bit. These days the call could be from anyone, most of them dreaded. I still haven’t called Rhys, which only makes it worse as the days go by. I have no idea how to tell him that all of this is my fault. One hurdle at a time. Now that work has been dealt with, maybe it is time to phone him.

The number I see on the screen is even more daunting. I hesitantly hit the answer button.

“Hope?”

There’s a pause on the other end before she responds. “It still feels weird calling you Prynne,” she replies with a small laugh. “But I guess it’s about time I get used to it.”

“Hey,” I reply, not having a clue what to say otherwise. Even if she, or any of the other Flanders for that matter, hasn’t seen everything, I’m sure the TV producers have at least given the family an idea of what the rest of the world has.

“What I wanted to call and say is…I don’t care. About any of it. I miss my twin. Come home.”