“Why weren’t you at the meeting last night?” My father says. The disappointment in his voice is as clear as day.

“I was held up,” I say.

“By what?”

The thought of admitting that a pack of Rinjin had gotten the best of me makes my stomach knot up with shame. That’s not the daughter my father wants, I’m sure. He’s a Zoran, he’s tall, he’s buff, he’s strong.

All the things I’m not.

I glance up at my mom, looking for a way out of this conversation, but she just smiles back.

“If there’s anything you want to tell us, you can trust us, honey,” she says.

“It’s not important,” I say.

“Are you renewing your contract with the GAC?” My father asks point-blank.

Wow, so much for beating around the bush.

I avoid his gaze and focus on my breakfast cereal instead. This is why I’ve been avoiding them lately: My parents always want to talk about my future, and I just don’t have the answers at the moment. I don’t want to have this conversation, not without having a good answer. In a way, leaving Garna would feel like betraying my parents and all that they’ve worked for.

I swallow my pride and answer the man.

“If there’s another meeting, I’ll go. I was delayed yesterday, the Luba were… anxious.”

“It was Larry, wasn’t it? Did he screw up again?”

“No,” I say quickly. I won’t blame Larry for my own mistakes. “No, it was me.”

“Hm. Well, you’re in luck. There’s a second meeting tomorrow afternoon, before the overseer’s retirement party.”

“Good,” I say, forcing myself to smile. “I look forward to it.”

That evening, I visit the make-shift bar the GAC-workers have built, scraping together leftover materials from a discarded shipping container. As I down a few drinks I wonder what’s next for me.

A new contract will keep me here for five whole years. What if I’ll regret it?

And what about the changes, the hair, the symbols, the headaches, the dreams?

My god, the dreams. Last night was another doozy. I think I woke up while humping my blankets… am I glad I live alone!

I love the Luba, I love my job, but somehow, it doesn’t feel like… enough.

It feels like there’s a piece of the puzzle missing. A piece of me that I’m missing.

The next morning I rise early, with only a slight hang-over. I didn’t find any answers at the bar, but I did have a pretty good time, all things considered.

I head over to the Growhouse kitchen, avoiding the Rinjin for now, and help my mother prepare dinner for tonight’s retirement party. The air is filled with fresh, scrumptious Garnan food, and I have to shoo Larry away from the finished dishes several times.

It reminds me of my childhood. A simpler time. Back then, my mom and I were always in the kitchens, preparing the food for all the aid workers.

There weren’t as many private silos back then. Most of the aid workers slept in bunks, ate together and used the same showers. It was all very cozy.

Perhaps I have rose tinted glasses — privacy was hard to come by back then. Several aid-workers I was close to moved on when their contracts ended, ready for their next adventure.

I wonder where they are now…

I feel wanderlust stirring inside of me. As cozy as I have it here, with my two loving parents, I can’t stay their little girl forever. There’s more to the universe than Garna. I need to follow my roots. I need to understand my visions.

I take the oversized pot of soup off the fire and bring it to the large GAC-silo where the meeting and party will take place. Everyone is ready and waiting for the presentation to begin, and the GAC-man quickly runs through the application process for us.

Everyone is eager to conclude the meeting so that we can start on the aromatic food, which is stealing all of our attention.

The moment the meeting ends I rise from my seat and join the line, my stomach grumbling.

“Honey,” my mom says, tapping me on the shoulder, “Could you run to the Growhouse and grab me some Dorna leaves? I think we forgot to put them in the soup.”

“Sure thing,” I say, despite my hunger. My mom’s very peculiar about her soup — it’s her pride and joy.

I head towards the door, noticing at the very last moment that the tip of a Rinjin tail is dangling high above. I walk under the threshold and look up, seeing just a second too late the furry monsters are balancing the pan of soup my mom and I prepared on the ledge.

Right as I’m looking at them, the Alpha Rinjin tips it over. Towards me. All I can do is watch with a horrified expression on my face. Time slows down to a crawl, and a scream is caught in my throat as I’m drenched from head to toe in (thankfully cooled) red soup.

The pan lands on the ground with a heavy thud, turning everyone’s attention towards me. The Rinjin cackle manically, dancing on the roof and beating their chests triumphantly.

This is more than I can take.

They’ve humiliated me in front of all of the aid-workers, and ruined my mom’s hard-work.

Adrenaline surges through my veins, pure rage clouding my vision, and in a fit of anger I extend my hand towards the Rinjin and squeeze.

Instantly, the metal roof caves in. The sound of twisted metal fills the Silo as the Rinjin fall off and scamper away with fright.

I catch my breath. The hall is silent.

Everyone is staring at me, their eyes filled with fear.

What have I done?

My eyes find my fathers. He is as stunned as the rest, but thankfully, there is no fear in his eyes. My Zorashi symbols are glowing and pulsing, casting shadows everywhere. I don’t even have the energy left to cover them up.

My secret is out.

Everyone knows that I’m a freak.

My dad rushes to my side and grabs a hold of me before my knees give out.

“You’re safe,” he says. “I have you.”

“Who’s hungry?” My mom says, trying to deflect the attention. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m starving! Lets eat!”

My father leads me away to his Silo, away from the crowd. I plop down on their couch, and he hands me a cup of cider to calm my nerves.

As I sip on the Garnan brew, I realize my life on this planet is as good as over. I saw how they looked at me.

Like I’m a freak of nature.

I wish I could just… disappear.