Submitted for the February 2024 prompt: On This Special Day

As they walked through the gallery, ZZ said, “Mama, we have never gone this way before.”

 

Hannah looked up at the glass dome, reflecting and spinning the moonlight into swirling ribbons. She knew the effect was due to chemicals designed to be moonlight-sensitive, but the pas de deux of science and myth never failed to take her breath away.

 

“No, ZZ. Tonight marks a special night in your life. You are no longer a little girl. Tomorrow you will start down the road to become a young woman, just as I did, and just as your grandmother did.”

 

“Is that why Nana sent this dress?”

 

Hannah grimaced. The dress had belonged to David’s mother, and even though Hannah had not seen him in five years, ZZ and her Nana had remained close. When the package arrived, addressed to ZZ, there had been no way to keep her from opening it or choosing any other dress for the evening. ‘That’s what Affirmation is for, Mama: to remember,’ ZZ had said. The memory of all her fights with David raised a pall over Hannah’s mood. Before marriage, Hannah had agreed to not send a daughter to the ceremony. After their daughter was born, though, Hannah began to feel the call well up deep inside her chest.

 

“ZZ, all women are born strong, but so many of us never learn of that strength, or how to help themselves, or each other. This night is a light that will burn the rest of your life; you will be connected to me, your grandmother, and millions of other women. This connection will give you strength and light your way. Your father does not believe this, as I do. That’s just one reason why we aren’t married anymore. He still loves you very much, and he will always love you.”

 

ZZ nodded; she had been given this speech before and seemed resigned to hearing it again. As they stepped into a middle hallway, mother and daughter relaxed their grasp on each other’s hands. A wave of peace cloaked her: she was so proud of the child ZZ had grown into, and comforted by the path her daughter was about to embark upon for all women.

 

“Hannah?”

The whisper floated just above the sounds of footsteps. Hannah tried to shake off the dissonance of hearing that voice here and now. Her daughter raced to the shadow at the side of the hallway. “Daddy.” He knelt to hug her.

 

Hannah joined them in the shadows, hissing. “What are you doing here? Only followers are allowed here at night. I could have you arrested.” ZZ backed away from her father and stood behind her mother.

 

“I needed to see ZZ again.” He turned his gaze away from his daughter, and back to Hannah. “I wanted to speak to you one more time.”

 

“You will not change my mind, David. How did you even find us?”

 

“First full moon after ZZ’s 13th birthday. You were always prompt.”

 

“How did you know where we would be?”

 

“I came here during the day, and it was plain to see which passages lead to the sanctuaries from the public gallery. Real security doesn’t start until further down the hallways.” On his wrist: a faint blinking light.

 

“When I asked my mother for the dress, I had a small tracer sewn in. I had to ask you once more.” ZZ put her arms around her mother’s waist. Unexpectedly, Hannah felt a calming presence.

 

“David, please don’t make our daughter watch her father arrested on her Affirmation Night. You will never change my mind. She is ready. We are ready.” The eddies of light in the ceilings above them reflected on their faces.

 

Tears welled up in his eyes. Other walkers gave no notice: at night, privacy was respected in these hallways; the ceremony could be a difficult passage for many. ZZ stepped over to her father and used the hem of her dress to wipe his eyes. She took her mother by the hand and walked forward. When Hannah turned her head back for an instant, he was gone.

 

Mother and daughter walked into the dark that was not dark, alone in their thoughts, and not alone, the hallway awash with the footsteps and murmurs of women and daughters. In the waiting room, a woman in a white robe, with a single pink loop embroidered on the shoulder, leaned over and whispered “Daughter, would you like to wait with the child?” Hannah couldn’t find her voice and nodded, but when she stood to walk with the nurse, her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor.

 

Awake, she found herself in bed; a nearby screen allowed her to see ZZ and her monitors. In a moment’s anger, she blamed David for giving his weakness to her, but she quickly let that pass: she wanted all her energy to focus on ZZ’s image and readings. Behind the next curtain, a new worshipper was being attended to, and Hannah could hear the voice: a voice as soft as light, and reassuring.

 

“It takes four hours to see whether inhibition takes place. The ductal carcinoma cells have been modified via CRISPR, specifically for genetic testing with the current targeting vaccine. If your daughter has the genes to fight this cancer, she will live a normal life. In either case, her Affirmation will help women yet to follow, until the day that this scourge is wiped from history.”

 

In the distance, the first light of sunrise began bleeding across the sky.