To pay for my brother Liam’s surgery, I auctioned my virginity for $500,000 and spent seven nights with Mr. Vere. He was younger than I expected. Some nights I woke feeling a warm, powerful serpent’s tail wrapped around my waist; when I moved, it vanished. On the fifth night, he gave me a black-gold eggshell. “Keep it safe,” he said. “When I come back, I’ll tell you.” On the eighth morning, he was gone. His assistant handed me a black card: “Your mission is ended.” When I asked if he’d said anything, she mocked me. Seven nights left only a card and a cold eggshell. I sent the $500,000 anonymously to Liam’s surgical account and threw the eggshell into the Hudson. Three months later, pregnant, I went for an ultrasound. The doctor paled: “Miss Carter, you’re pregnant—with six eggs.”
