"Julie, honey?"
Julia Kensington Hendrix looked up from the video she'd been watching. Her father was standing in the doorway, looking young and trim. Her friends giggled over him -- Imagine having a dad that hot! -- and it made Julia a little crazy, though she was careful not to show it. 'Dad?"
"Your mother needs a favor," he said.
"Um," she told him. At twenty years old, she was already suspicious; when her mother asked for a favor, it was generally something that she thought would benefit her career and increase their fortune. "Sure, but... why isn't she asking?"
"She's lost her voice," Dad said.
"Oh," said Julia. "Like, Laryngitis?"
"Something like that," Dad told her. "Anyway, your mother needs you to come and speak to the Prophet."
"Wait-- what--? Me?"
"Yes, you. It's a little sooner than we'd intended, but it's time for you to receive your blessings."
"I... Okay. Of course. Just let me..." She stood up, looked around, and then realized that she didn't really need anything for this. Blessings were blessings, after all. And to be blessed by the Prophet directly... that was a great honor. "Should I dress for...?"
"No need," her dad told her. "Just come."
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