Part Two:

Jason knocked on the door of his mother's office. It was unusual for him to be summoned there, as it was where she consulted with her clients, detailing the surgeries she intended to perform. It was a private space.

"Enter," her voice rang out sharply.

His mother was sat on one of the soft patient chairs, framed by anatomical posters and the prestigious medical and surgical diplomas hanging on the walls, side by side with his father's CPA licenses. His parents had always been a financial power couple. While his mother brought home the bacon with her succesful cosmetic clinic, his father knew every trick in the book (and off-the-books too) to ensure the state never saw a cent of it in tax. He was a master of every loophole, finding new ones faster than the IRS shut them down.

Behind her on the sofa, sitting with a feminine poise, was a girl his age, maybe eighteen or nineteen, who he'd never seen before. He'd remember a face like. And that body. A loose medical gown showed off her shapely figure. Her arms and thighs were bandaged, though Jason found it hard to believe such a naturally pretty woman could ever require his mother's appearance-enhancing services.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you were seeing a patient," Jason mumbled. "I can come back later."

"Nonsense, Jason, take a seat. We need to discuss something," his mother said curtly. Jason sat down, glancing between his mother and the girl, trying to make sense of it. The girl’s long auburn hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her face was all delicate features and shy smiles. She looked oddly familiar, but Jason couldn’t place her. The girl shifted timidly, avoiding his gaze without speaking. The scar around her Adam's apple might have had something to do with that.

"Is she, um, a patient?" Jason asked.

No officially," his mother replied. "Your father is dead."

Jason leaped to his feet. "He's WHAT?!"

"Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking, Jason. How many times must I tell you?" his mother said snippily. "Yes. As I was saying - before I was so rudely interrupted - your father is dead. For tax reasons." She stretched a hand around the girl's bandaged body, who winced at the contact. "This is Emily. I am adopting her. She is your new sister."

The two exchanged a look. Emily finally lifted her head. The eyes were unmistakable. "Da-dad?" he stammered.

"We gotta protect the assets, kiddo," said 'Emily' in a high, raw voice, clutching her augmented throat.

"And all it took were two extra assets added to your father," his mother tittered, her eyes flitting proudly over her husband's silicone-filled chest. "Those parasites at the IRS treat us like their personal piggy bank, just because we're a married couple with high-earning careers. But a single mother caring for two dependent teenage children? That significantly lowers our tax liabilities. Add in tax incentives for adoption, dispensations for surviving spouses, your father's life insurance policy... well, it's all very complicated. Your father calculated it all."

"Yes. I was just showing your mother a few hypotheticals," his father grumbled with regret. "She was quite fascinated by the... deductibles." He shifted on the couch, whimpering slightly as he uncrossed his legs. He smoothed the gown down over his thighs. Jason didn't even want to consider how far his mother had proceeded. She was a perfectionist after all. Emily looked down, struggling to keep her composure. “It’s what had to be done. We’ll get used to it.”

Jason's head was spinning. "You turned dad into your daughter? How could you?" he spluttered in angry disbelief.

"Quite easily actually," his mother said. "You start with an incision in the perineum just below the testic-"

"I meant morally!"

That received only a look of bemusement from her. As a successful surgeon -and a plastic one no less- the concept of morality rarely registered. People were just clay, canvasses for her to work her art. And Dad was truly a masterpiece. From the cutely upturned nose to the perfectly imperfect touches of the cheek dimples - my god, he even had a smattering of freckles -, she had created something indistinguishable from the real thing. That was unusual - his mother specialized in a flawless, airbrushed standard beauty for her celebrity clients. In Dad's case, she'd gone out of her way to make him appear as natural as possible, as if intentionally concealing all trace of her work.

"Is this legal?" Jason asked.

Now it was his mother's turn to avoid his gaze. "We've gone through all the relevant adoption agencies."

"You didn't answer my question."

Her expression hardened. "Emily is your new sister. That is the reality of it. You will treat her as such. You will use her name, whether we are outside or at home alone. And if anyone should come asking after her, she is your dear, sweet sister, and nothing more. Is that understood?"