“There are some very sophisticated hackers out there. Even when you think your privacy is protected, it’s not. It’s crazy how often big companies are hacked and all their customers’ private data leaked. It’s really not safe to put anything out there.” I sigh. “And not just about Valentina, but you as well.”
“You think?”
My mind is filled with thoughts of people from Amelia’s old life coming across her image and tracking her down.
“I do. I’d die if anything happened to you. I think it’s best if you stay off all social media.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Good, I’m glad that’s settled. Relax and drink your wine.”
She shouldn’t actually be drinking with her medication, but one glass won’t really hurt, and it tends to put her in a better mood, make her more compliant. We finish up, and I lean in to kiss her. “Do you feel like the medicine is helping the depression?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes, I think so.”
“I love you so much, Cassandra.”
“I love you too.”
A feeling of contentment washes over me. Everything is as it should be.
??55??
Julian
“When are they going to throw the big ball, Daddy?” Valentina asks, for the tenth time already.
I give her an indulgent smile. I know that she’ll be asleep on the couch by ten o’clock, but I don’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. I’ve planned a lovely evening for our second New Year’s Eve as a family. It’s been over a year and a half since Amelia became Cassandra, and the transformation is complete. We are a family. Just the three of us, with balloons, streamers, and a smorgasbord of food—shrimp, filet mignon, lobster tail, and for dessert, all the fixings for ice cream sundaes. Valentina has been looking forward to it all day.
But Cassandra has been in a mood all day, complaining of climbing the walls and being sick of the dreary winter weather, and she went upstairs midafternoon to take a nap. We had another eight inches of snow last night, and the temperatures haven’t been above freezing for weeks. I’ve tried to cheer her up, even promised that we’d take a trip somewhere warm in February, after the dregs have completed their postholiday travel. The last thing I want to do is be stuck inside a crowded plane with a bunch of tourists. But she remains sullen.
At five thirty, I go to check on her. When I enter the bedroom, she’s awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her phone.
“Hi,” I say, keeping my voice light.
She gives me a sour look. “I wanted to go out tonight.”
“I’ve planned a wonderful evening. All your favorite foods.” I list what’s on the menu.
“I’m going stir-crazy. I know it’s too late to get a sitter for Valentina, but can’t we three at least go out for an early dinner?”
I take a deep breath and warn myself to answer carefully. “We’ve already been over this. New Year’s Eve is amateur’s night. The roads will be filled with drunks.”
She rolls her eyes. “We haven’t been out in ages. We don’t have any friends. I’m going crazy. I need people!” She yells the last sentence, her eyes bulging in a way that’s not particularly attractive.
I’ve never been one for large groups of friends, much preferring my own company, but before the first Cassandra died, we did socialize occasionally with some colleagues. I can’t risk exposing the new Cassandra to them, though. Despite the cover story about her car accident, too many things could go wrong. And I don’t have the energy to form new friendships. Why can’t she be content with Valentina and me? We should be enough.
I walk over to the bed and take a seat next to her, then make my voice as calm as possible. “I understand that you want to go out. But you have to remember we have a young child, and it could be dangerous to be on the roads with her.” She says nothing, just keeps looking down at the floor. “What if you and I go away next weekend? I’ll see if Nancy can stay with Valentina, and we can fly out to Las Vegas. Sit by the pool, see some shows. Even play some slots. What do you think?”
She looks up, her eyes wide. “Really?”
I smile. “Yes. It will be good to get out of this dreary cold and just have some time to ourselves. I’ll arrange it tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, and leans in to kiss me.
Now that her good humor is restored, we can salvage the evening and make it a good New Year’s Eve for Valentina. “Shall we go and celebrate?”