To avoid her mother's disapproving stares every time she stepped out of her room, Leslie slipped out of the house and headed to Rose Hills, the city's bustling shopping district. Even though it was the most popular spot in town, almost nothing there appealed to her. The storefronts overflowed with formal dresses, modest jewelry, and home goods marketed exclusively to women who embraced "traditional values." Leslie had no intention of becoming one of them. “Leslie? Leslie Blanks?”

She turned at the sound of her name. A girl about her age was approaching, smiling with easy confidence. “Yes?” Leslie replied, curious. The girl extended her hand. “I'm Taylor O’Callahan. I saw you at church yesterday and wanted to say hi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Leslie said, shaking her hand.

Up close, it was immediately clear Taylor didn't fit the usual mold. Her hair was boldly two-toned, cut in a style that defied every local trend. The plain, black dress she wore was proper enough for Sunday service, but the heavy, black boots paired with it were anything but. In a small city where gossip traveled faster than the wind, Leslie couldn't recall ever hearing a single mention of anyone named Taylor O’Callahan.

“Are you new around here?” Leslie asked.

“Not really. I just don't get out much. I was homeschooled, but I'll be starting at White Eagle after the break.” Leslie grinned. “Maybe you can tell me where you found those killer boots, and I'll give you the full rundown on White Eagle.” Without warning, Taylor linked her arm through Leslie's and started walking beside her. “Honestly? I'd rather know where you got that suit you wore yesterday. You looked so sure of yourself. I was honestly impressed.”

“Really?” Leslie blinked, caught off guard.

“Really. Word gets around. I've heard you have some…unconventional thoughts about balancing things between women and men.” Leslie let out a short laugh. “Don't get me started. This whole city acts like a woman's only real options are wife or mistress and honestly, the mistresses seem to have more freedom. Women should get to choose who they marry, when they marry, or whether they marry at all. Being single and educated shouldn't be treated like a tragedy.”

Taylor tilted her head, studying her. “Have you ever heard the word 'feminism'?”

Leslie dropped her voice. “Isn't that…like, a bedroom thing?”

Taylor burst out laughing, loud enough that a few heads turned. “No! It's a movement. People working for equality between women and men. I heard you went to that equal-rights protest a while back. What we're doing isn't that different, just more focused, more organized, and a lot quieter.”

Leslie stopped walking and faced her. “Are you trying to recruit me right now?” “I think you'd be perfect for it. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. There are more of us than you'd guess - people who feel exactly the way you do.”

Leslie's mouth curved into a slow, eager smile. “Where do I sign up?”

“Our group stays under the radar. No public lists, no announcements. But if you're serious about actually changing things…” Taylor paused, then met her eyes. “Meet me back here tomorrow night at ten.” “Tomorrow at ten,” Leslie echoed, nodding firmly. “I'll be here.”

“I hope so.” Taylor gave a small, playful wave. “See you soon.”

She melted into the crowd and was gone in seconds.

Leslie stood there a moment longer, the word still lingering on her tongue. “Feminism,” she murmured to herself, a spark of excitement flickering behind her eyes. “That actually sounds…pretty damn cool.”