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>Ask for the number of a tech person.

Hermione stares down at the table. Of course mother would be busy. The afternoon would have to do.

She walks over toward her mother. A little concerned, the woman scoots over to make room for her to sit. “Is something wrong, dear?”

“No, nothing, mother.” Hermione takes a seat. She takes her mother’s hand, holding it for a moment, before bringing it up to her face.

“…” Hermione leaves her mother’s hand there, and she begins to silently caress her cheek.

…Notice. Please, notice. Hermione’s unsure of what she’s even thinking. Why she’s even thinking it. All she knows is that she wants her mother to say something, anything. She had to have noticed. The fact that her face is so much different from before. The fact that every time she moves her thumb, it subtly moves through the illusion. …The fact that it’s not the face of her daughter.

Hermione’s mother says nothing. Eventually, she takes her hand away. The lingering warmth from her touch slowly fades. “I’ll talk to you this afternoon, Hermione.” Her mother smiles. “Did you need anything else?”

“…No. I’m alright, mother.” Hermione stands and begins to walk away. She stops. “Oh, there is one thing. Would you happen to have the number of a tech specialist?”

“Hm.” Her mother puts a finger to her chin. “Why don’t you take a look at our phone directory, dear? I’m afraid I don’t have a number off the top of my head.”

Hermione nods. “Of course, mother. Thank you for your help.” She walks away, and after a moment, her mother resumes her call with the wedding venue planner.

>What would you like to do?