The tensions don't melt for the next week; I've never been good at forgiveness. But perhaps I would be better at it, at least, if Delphi were to apologize. But she says she has nothing to apologize for, so our situation has not improved.

I did make it to the Fourth, but only just barely. Now my nerves have returned again, because it is scheduled for later today. Only five percent of students make it to the Fourth every year, and all are sworn to secrecy.

There are rumors that test has one thousand questions, all to be answered in the span of five hours. Some say that you take the test in front of all of the Senate, and they laugh at you the whole time to test calmness under pressure.

That is a skill that I am still trying to develop.

The doorbell rings twice, indicating that breakfast has arrived. Delphi walks in to the room, and seeing my glare, huffs and puts her hands on her hips.

"Really, Willow? This is getting boring. Grow up."

She opens the door, grabbing our parcels.

"Come eat."

We have to eat together as a family. It's a Rule. I sulk, following after her. My parents are just sitting down when we reach the table. Delphi distributes the meal.

"You two are tense lately. Is there anything we should talk about?" My father begins.

There is nothing to talk about. Delphi is self-destructive. A bomb about to go off at any minute. Why shouldn't I protect myself?

"Yes. Actually, I think we should talk," Delphi snips. "A full week. She refuses to speak to me, as I am sure you have not neglected to notice. Well, I for one have had enough of it. And also, not addressing someone out of spite is against the Rules."

"You are certainly one to talk about the Rules. What is your record, now? Eighty-four in one week?!" I retort, furious.

"We aren't talking about me right now!"

My mother smiles slightly in my direction, unbeknownst to Delphi.

"It is naturally going to be difficult after Ash. You are both nervous for her, sad for the shame she has brought on the family, and hopeful that she returns safely," my mother cuts in. "It is expected that you would take out your feelings on each other."

"...But you are also both being immature," My father concludes. " And yes, Willow, Delphi is technically correct in saying that your holding a grudge is-"

"Shame on the family? I know we aren't supposed to question the government and the Senate and everything, but isn't that awful? Our cousin is by herself with no experience in survival. Why don't we focus on that? That should change, and-"

"Delphinium Ignia! Do not say any more on the subject!" My father scolds my sister. But for once, I'm on her side.

"I actually think she has a fair point. Why are we not supposed to mourn the Abandonment of our cousin?" I feel the anger rising in me, as well. I wonder how life would be different if we were actually expected to feel sad about these things. Would we be more, or less efficient? There is always room for improvement, after all. Delphi looks at me, surprised by my sudden endorsement.

"You both know the consequences of questioning those who know better than us," My mother hisses. "I would have thought that Ash's Abandonment would have reminded you of that. Remember, they are always watching."

As if almost on cue, the doorbell rings thrice. A Hermes is here on official business, and the ringing echoes through the house, bringing suspense and terror with it. My mother leaps to answer the visitor, and my father gets up from the table, stands between me and Delphi, and clutches our shoulders harshly. We get the message: Don't do or say anything stupid.

He smiles though, so when the Hermes walks briskly through the front door, he looks calm. He is spectacular at hiding his emotions. Delphi, catching on, immediately puts on a relaxed expression as if nothing is wrong. I attempt to do the same, but realize that I probably rarely have a relaxed expression on my face anyway. My father lets go of us, sensing that we've gotten the message.

"I trust you have finished your morning meals," the messenger asks us, but the question is mere formality. We know he doesn't care. It's not is job to make sure we've eaten. That's for our consumption scientists.

"Yes, thank you." Delphi smiles when she speaks, looking as calm she always does. I have no idea how she and my father do that; but my mother and I are sorely incapable of such talents. I look to our breakfast parcels. Barely a crumb has been touched, and I feel my stomach rumble uncomfortably.

"Wonderful. As you know, it is now time for the Fourth. Please proceed outside. I will be your ­­­Hermes for today."

I feel myself breathe for the first time in about twenty seconds, not even realizing I was tense. In my fear, I had momentarily forgotten about the Fourth altogether. Hopefully this is no lie, and we are in fact going into testing.

I never thought I'd be so enthusiastic to take a test that might determine my future.