“Dr. Rivers, I don’t doubt your find,” Dr. Burgess sighed, adjusting his thick glasses, “but I do think the results are questionable at best.”

“And why, pray tell, would you say that?” came the frosty reply.

“This data… it’s little more than--”

“This data could totally change the views and treatment of eating disorders! This might be able to show the variables that years of research may not have taken into consideration!”

“It’s little more than speculation.”

“So was the atomic bomb, once. And these tests--”

“Enough. I won’t hear another word of it. You aren’t paid to speculate, Mae. You’re paid to analyze data. Solid numbers and facts. Do you understand?”


“I’ll have to beg to differ,” a voice spoke up.

At this voice, the redhead scowled. “I thought I told you that you were unwelcome, Jessica,” she said, trying to remain calm and in control.

Valo rose and glared at the woman on the stage. “For what, exactly?” she challenged. “For marrying? Choosing a male partner? Supporting the so-called ‘evil’ companies that you’ve mentioned? Or, maybe because you’re intolerant of anyone whose views oppose your own?”

“That’s enough.”

“Hell no, Julia, I’m just starting. Tell me, Miss Winston, how well did you do your research?”

“Quite thoroughly.”


“Well, then,” Valo shot back, “you should know that Reality Magazine refuses to advertise cosmetics, clothing, diet pills, plastic surgery-related advertisements, and other items designed to keep women obsessed over appearances.”

“Yes, but--”

“And you should also know,” Valo interrupted, “that they get the bulk of their money from donations from like-minded people and organizations, from people who believed in empowering women, rather than trying to make them fit a specific ideal.”

“Well, I--”

“And you should also know from your research that the only professional-caliber model the magazine works with is Charlotte Cloud, since she’s a close friend of Emily Desjardin-Rivers. All of the other women who appear in it… they’re the people who work at the magazine, writing the articles and taking photos and all.”

“Well, yes, that is true…” Julia stammered.


“And as for Elemental Fashions, they’re the second most successful fashion company in the country. They employ men and women as models who might not have been employed elsewhere, like Rose Lei, the plus-sized model, or Joyce-Lynn Byrns, the blind model. Don’t you think those women feel empowered?”

“Y-yes, but…”

“Did you know that Elemental is one of the few fashion businesses in the United States that requires anyone who wishes to model for them to reach or exceed a healthy and medically-selected BMI minimum-- which, by the way, is set at a healthy level, to where anyone in this room could easily reach it? In other words, no one at this company is encouraging today’s women to pursue eating disorders or highly regimented diets to look like toothpick-thin models.”

“Well, that’s all well and good, but--” Julia tried to interrupt.

Valo cut her off. “No, I know what you have against Elemental, and I know you kicked me out because I figured it out. I figured you out.”

At this, Julia blanched and shook her head ever so slightly.