“Does anyone even remember what I used to look like?” I ask, but Riley doesn’t even answer.

The doctor belches out another cloud, about as disinterested as I’ve come to expect from him, “Technically, your memories are still in there,” he points to Inaccessible is not the same as non-existent.”

“Oh, is this like one of those mind puzzles?” Riley prods, “All dogs are collies, or is that the other way around?”

“Something along those lines,” the doctor nods, checking his watch again for third time in the past 10 minutes. “Your memories may come back with time, Miss Alex. And if you would like, we can attempt to erase your pre-transition memories as you originally wanted—”

“—Excuse me?!”

“Only a joke! But your mother — erhm, caregiver can schedule a follow-up if you aren’t back to your usual self in, oh let’s say few…months.” Her self-esteem renewed, Riley looks us over with a big dumb grin, “Doctor, I can watch over her!” She’s so predictable.