Lauren watched Jess’s bright smile flicker for the first time since she’d come home. Gently, she reached into the cabinet and retrieved the Chronivac—their family’s time-and-event scanner—then activated it.
A translucent timeline shimmered into view, floating between them:
Jess & Macy's Breasts Size Increased From B-Cups To C-Cups
Cheerleader Outfit Rewiring And Routine Programmed.
Lauren’s breath caught. She powered down the Chronivac’s projection and turned to Jess, whose doe-eyed expression faltered under her mother’s steady gaze.
“I… I know how you feel,” Lauren began softly, setting the device aside. “But I have to ask: after seeing every step of these changes—the physical alterations, the mental programming—do you still truly want to live as a girl?”
Jess swallowed hard. The weight of the question pulled her out of the momentary haze of newfound joy. She thought of the timid boy she’d been that morning, of the tightness in her chest whenever she tried to remember being Jeff. And she thought of Ryan’s arm around her, the rush of the kiss, the tingles of belonging that had filled every corner of her heart.
She looked up at her mother, voice firm but tender: “Yes, Mom. I know none of this was my choice—at first. But these last ten hours… they’ve shown me who I am, not who I was forced to be. I’ve never felt more me than I do right now.”
Lauren held her daughter’s gaze, searching for any hint of doubt. Then she saw it: unwavering determination, the same spark Lauren had once seen in Jeff—only this time, it was fully aligned with Jess’s own truth.
Lauren reached out and cupped Jess’s cheek. “Then I’ll support you. Every step of the way.”
Jess’s eyes brimmed with relief and gratitude. The Chronivac lay between them, its timeline of artificial shifts overtaken by a truth far stronger: Jess’s own decision to embrace this new life. And in that moment, both mother and daughter knew that no device—or program—could ever take that choice away.
Lauren then says, “But while I will 100% respect your decision, Jess… I can’t forget about Jeff’s.”
Jess blinked, the name almost sounding foreign now—like a character from a book she’d read a long time ago.
“I raised Jeff for sixteen years,” Lauren continued. “I knew his fears, his little quirks… his laugh. I was there through scraped knees and school bullies, through late nights and awkward conversations. And now, I see this radiant girl in front of me, full of life and confidence—and I’m proud, Jess. So proud. But that doesn’t mean I can just forget the boy you were.”
Jess lowered her gaze, her voice softer now. “I haven’t forgotten him either. He… he got me here. Jeff was scared. Alone. Always pretending to be something he wasn’t. I thought I was supposed to be him forever. But I’m not pretending now, Mom. This… this is real.”
Lauren nodded, her lips pressed tightly together, holding back a swell of emotion.
“I believe you,” she whispered. “I really do. And I can see how happy you are. But maybe part of my job is to remember the parts you’ve outgrown—even if you can’t carry them with you.”
Jess looked up, her eyes shimmering. “That’s okay, Mom. Maybe you can carry Jeff for me. Because I don’t want to go back. Not even to visit.”
There was a beat of silence between them—quiet, weighty, respectful.
Then Lauren pulled Jess into a hug. “Then we move forward, together. As mother and daughter.”
Jess exhaled slowly against her shoulder, a sense of release washing over her—this time not from programming or change, but from choice, and from being seen. Completely.
And in the dim hum of the Chronivac still softly glowing nearby, a new line formed across the timeline:
Choice affirmed. Identity stabilized: Jess.
Override of Jeff’s baseline complete.
Lauren didn’t need to read it. She already knew.