If you're one of my older readers (as in, you have read up to chapter 22)--sorry, this is not a new update, but PLEASE DO READ THIS A/N.

In case you didn't know, I have unpublished most chapters and will be republishing them with MAJOR EDITS/REWRITING. I may write brand new chapters in the middle, in which case I will notify you guys so that you can read only those parts.

(Speaking of which, I have made major changes to this chapter. The plot is ever-so-slightly different because of a minor change at the very end. Just so you know.)

Keep in mind that the plot will most likely change a little. When I remove the {Editing/Rewriting} header in the title of the book, you'll know that I'm all caught up to where I was before.

Thanks!

***

Nothing happens until Friday.

I spend the week completely paranoid, terrified that any move I make could set the nearest object on fire. Every spark of light in my peripheral vision makes me almost jump out of my skin. When Mom comes into my bedroom late Tuesday night, after I have gotten in bed, and plugs back in the nightlight that I had yanked out of the socket the evening before, the sudden appearance of the soft, yellow glow in the previously pitch black room almost makes me scream out loud. As it is, I kick off my covers and scramble backwards so fast, I hit my head against the wall beside my bed hard enough to make my vision go blurry for a moment.

Mom seems highly concerned about my mental state after that. Especially the next morning, when the brief glimpse of blue flames leaping up as Dad turns on the stove is enough to make me shriek a little and bang my knee on the underside of the dining table as I scoot my chair away.

It's like she thinks I'm going crazy. And I'm not entirely sure she's wrong.

The only normal thing in my daily routine is waking up before dawn so that I can make a wish on the rising sun. It's ironic how a literal giant ball of flame is what I'm relying on to keep me from going insane, when it's fire itself that's causing my problems.

It doesn't help that it appears as though Sadia is starting to suspect something. She invites me to sit with her and Medha at lunch every single day that week, which is something that's never happened before, considering that the two of them are joined at the hip and generally spend time with just each other. The few times they have asked me to sit with them this year, we were never able to talk for very long before silence fell, but now, Sadia keeps roping me back into the conversation every time I awkwardly try to extricate myself. And although she never outright mentions the Examination, she makes so many casual references to it, I can't tell if I'm just being paranoid and imagining things or if she's trying to confirm her suspicions about something.

Friday during lunch, I am again sitting beside Sadia, picking at my pasta as she cheerfully makes small talk. Medha sits across from us, her lunch practically forgotten as she focuses her attention on the book open beside her. It's been like this all week--me eating silently until I am asked a question, Sadia trying and failing to pick up the mostly one-sided conversation, and Medha reading a book, looking up every once in a while to interject something. It's beyond awkward.

"--plan on studying biology or chemistry," Sadia is saying. "I really want to get into one of those high-end math and science schools in the inner Sectors. There's one in the 2nd Sector I looked up that seemed really great..."

She trails off, as expecting me to say something. I just shove another forkful of pasta into my mouth.

"Medha and I are hoping we get into the same school so that we can be roommates," she adds. "But that's highly unlikely, because we would have to get pretty similar scores."

Medha looks up at the mention of her name and grins. "Yeah. I mean, what are the chances? We both know I'm way smarter than you are."

Sadia snorts in laughter, and I shift slightly in my seat. The two of them talk to each other so easily, not even batting an eye when one of them insults the other, while I sit here feeling like some sort of third wheel.

"You? Smart?" Sadia giggles. "That's coming from the girl who almost got run over by a car the other day because she had her nose buried in a book as she crossed the street. Who does that?"

"At least I don't regularly push on pull doors," Medha retorts with a grin.

"At least I can make myself a sandwich without setting the toaster on fire!" Sadia laughs.

"That was one time!"

But I barely hear Medha's indignant response, because the moment Sadia mentions the word fire, I almost spit my pasta all over the table. Instead, I accidentally swallow an entire mouthful before chewing it, resulting in me bursting into a loud coughing fit, drawing both girls' attention to me.

"Elayne, are you okay?" Sadia questions, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yeah," I rasp, grabbing my water bottle, my eyes watering a little. "Yeah, sorry, I just choked on my food for a second. I'm fine."

"Okay then," she says dubiously.

Before I can embarrass myself any further, our "conversation" (if you could call it that) is cut short by the appearance of a man, who I recognize as one of the assistant principals, behind Medha. I immediately freeze with my water bottle at my lips when I see him. Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? I don't remember breaking any rules! Why is he here? Why is he looking at me?

"Are you Elayne Woodson?" he asks me.

Oh god oh god what am I in trouble for what did I do I don't know--

"Are you Elayne Woodson," he repeats, louder this time.

I didn't realize that I hadn't responded. "Oh. Um--yeah. Yeah, I am. That's me."

I internally kick myself.

He is still eyeing me weirdly as he says, "Please pack up your lunch and come with me to the main office."

"The--what?" I splutter, eyes widening.

"You're not in trouble, Miss Woodson. Just follow me."

My hands shaking a little in nervousness, I start to put my stuff into my lunchbox, hyper-aware of Medha's and Sadia's curious eyes on me. Why on earth would I be needed in the main office? If I'm not in trouble, what else would they need me for? I can't imagine why they would--

The Examination retake.

My heart stops a little before I sigh a little and shake my head.

No, I shouldn't get my hopes up like that.

But it only takes me a couple more seconds to shove my things together once that thought occurs to me. Maybe, just maybe, I am getting my chance to retake the Examination. Maybe I still have a chance for my future.

My heart is in my throat as I follow the assistant principal through the silent and empty halls. As we approach the main office, it starts pounding faster and faster, and my hands clench in anticipation--

The man swings the door open, and I see my parents standing there in their business clothes.

"What?" I blurt out. "What are you guys doing here? Did you come straight from work?"

"Yes, we did," Mom says, sounding tired and slightly annoyed. "And we're here to take you to the Examination Hall."

I gape at her. "Seriously?"

"We don't know why," Dad tells me hastily. "But both of us got a call at work telling us to come here and pick you up, then bring you to the Examination Hall."

"I was heading to a meeting," Mom grumbles. Well, that explains her irritation.

Dad looks at the assistant principal. "We've already signed her out. Is there anything else?"

He shakes his head. "You may leave now."

"Alright, come on, let's hurry," Dad urges, prodding me. "Your mom and I both have to get to work, so let's try to get this over with as quickly as possible."

"I still don't understand what it is that they need us for in person that they couldn't have told us over the phone," Mom hisses under her breath as we make our way to the school's front entrance. "Not to mention why they needed us right at this moment. This is a really important meeting I'm missing!"

She remains in a bad mood the entire car ride to the hall, muttering to herself while I sit in the backseat, wondering what is going on. Somehow, I doubt that I would be called to the hall just to be told about a retake. It must be something more... but what?

Mom is out of the car the moment it rolls to a stop in front of the Examination Hall. Dad and I closely follow her, struggling to keep up with her brisk footsteps. By the time we catch up, she has stopped in front of the closed doors, already having knocked, her arms crossed in impatience. "You'd think they'd be ready for us if they called for us to be here on such short notice!" she huffs in exasperation as we approach.

The front doors of the Examination Hall don't open for a solid minute as we stand there in silence. Mom gets more and more frustrated with every passing second. She is about to lift her hand to bang on the door once more when it finally swings open, and a professional looking, dark-skinned woman with curly black hair tied up in a bun is standing there, eyebrows raised. "Good morning," she greets us. "I'm glad to see that you're finally here."

Mom grits her teeth at the woman's tone. I see her discreetly mouthing the word finally and rolling her eyes, and have to suppress a laugh. This woman's hypocritical words are not making things better for her.

She turns to me. "You must be Elayne Woodson?"

I nod, and she looks at Mom and Dad, raising an eyebrow. "And you're her parents?"

"Obviously," Mom says stiffly.

The woman rakes her eyes across us, her gaze lingering on the baggy sweatshirt and leggings I opted to wear today. Compared to my parents' business attire and her own professional appearance, I look messy, disheveled, and about as far from well dressed as I could get. So much for good first impressions.

"Alright, wonderful," she finally says, her nose wrinkling a little. "Now that you're here, I'd appreciate it if you would follow me so that--"

Mom cuts straight to the point. "I'm sorry, but what is it exactly that you need to do that requires our physical presence here? I don't quite understand why you couldn't have simply given us a call with any information we need about the retake."

"Retake? I'm afraid I don't--"

Mom glances down at her wrist. "I have a very important meeting that I'm supposed to be at, so while you might have all the time in the world, I would greatly appreciate you explaining before we all die of old age out here."

The woman stutters a little, completely taken aback. "I--what--"

Dad and I exchange glances. Suddenly, we are both struggling to smother our giggles.

"Time is ticking," Mom says in a sing-song voice.

The woman is staring at Mom as if she just grew a second head. "Just--follow me," she finally says, turning on her heel and walking back inside. As Mom rolls her eyes and stalks after her, Dad and I take one look at each other before bursting into laughter.

The woman is talking when we catch up to her. "--here from the City," she's saying. She glances back at us as she says the word City, and her voice takes on a noticeably snobbish tone. My irritation at her attitude overshadows my awe of the fact that she's from the City--she may be really smart (which she must be, if she's from there), but that doesn't mean she has to act like she's better than us. Looking at Mom's expression, I can tell that she's getting seriously pissed off too. "As a representative of the Academy," the woman adds when none of us react to her first statement, raising an eyebrow as if waiting for us to bow down at her feet and proclaim her greatness.

I exchange a confused glance with Dad, and then with Mom. I've never heard of the Academy. Is it supposed to be famous?

The woman gives us a bewildered look and shakes her head as if to say wow, I knew these guys were clueless, but I didn't know how clueless they were. "Well, of course, I did forget that only select people know about our prestigious school... although I do think that part of the problem is that the quality of education is deteriorating quite fast in the outer Sectors--"

Mom visibly bristles at those words. Before she can interrupt, the woman continues speaking.

"Anyway, we just need to draw some blood from Elayne here, run some tests--"

Mom stops in the middle of the hall, almost causing Dad and I to crash into her back. "Tests?" she demands. "Look, just because you're from some posh and fancy school from the City doesn't mean that you can just march in here and do whatever you want with my daughter. Is there no form for us to give consent to conduct these tests you speak of? Are you not going to explain what these tests are?"

The woman turns suddenly on her heel to face my mom, her nostrils flaring. "No, I will not explain, because it is top secret and classified, and only certain people are allowed to know about it. Unfortunately, while I am one of them, you are not. And you do not have a choice in this matter--we are drawing blood and administering the tests, whether you like it or not. If you have any argument, you can take it up with my superiors."

The way she says the word "superiors," I know she is referring to government officials. Of course--they are the main residents of the City. And I can tell that she mentioned it not only to let us know that she greatly outranks us, but also as a threat of sorts.

Mom doesn't take kindly to that.

"Excuse me?" she explodes. "I don't appreciate you talking to us like we're some bugs on the underside of your shoe just because we are not one of you elite people from the City. Being affiliated with the government doesn't automatically grant you the right to be an asshole. I will also have you know that our education system is just fine, and it seems like yours is the one that needs tweaking if you think the thirteenth Sector, out of one hundred and twenty five, is one of the outer ones. And while we're on the topic of 'basic knowledge,' on top of reviewing your basic geography, I would advise you to brush up on your manners while you're at it."

The woman's look of horror that someone would dare to speak to her in this way is so comical, I have to clap my hands over my mouth to keep from collapsing into hysterical laughter, and my face turns red from the effort. Dad isn't as successful as I am. He barely lasts two seconds before he is doubled over, guffawing so hard he is unable to breathe.

At that moment, at the end of the hall, an unfamiliar man turns the corner and starts bustling towards us before the woman can get out anything more than outraged spluttering. "You're here!" he exclaims, drawing my parents' attention to him. "Kira, what has been taking you so long? Oh, never mind, It doesn't matter right now. Come, come. Let's get this over with quickly."

Mom brushes right past the woman--Kira?--and purposefully makes her way towards the man. "Excuse me, I don't feel comfortable allowing you to draw blood from my daughter without knowing what you are doing with it--"

He looks genuinely apologetic when he hears her words. "I'm afraid we can't tell you exactly what it is, ma'am," he says gently. "We just want to make some observations."

"Hmmph," I hear Kira say, eyeing Mom angrily. Almost imperceptibly, she adds, "I told you so."

Mom looks like she is about to claw Kira's face out at that, but thankfully, Dad rushes forward and grabs her arm, pulling her along with him.

We all follow the man through the halls to a small room I have never been in before, but has been set up to look like a doctor's office. As soon as I am inside, the man has me sit down and starts getting together some things to draw my blood. Mom eyes him in anger the whole time, but doesn't protest any longer. He talks as he works, introducing himself as Dr. Larson, also from the Academy (whatever that is). Soon enough, he is exiting the room with a small vial of my blood in his hand, telling us that he will be back in fifteen minutes. Kira, who has been watching it all, narrows her eyes at us and tells us to not go anywhere before stalking after him.

"I hate that woman," Mom bites out as soon as Kira is out of earshot.

Dad sighs. "I think we all do."

"She's so full of herself, thinks she's above us just because she has some government position and she's from some fancy school in the City--"

"She kind of is," I point out. "Above us, that is."

Mom throws her hands up in the air. "That doesn't mean she has to act like it!" she exclaims.

"I just want to know what they're doing with my blood," I groan. "I thought this was about an Examination retake. Or, well, anything related to the Examination. But this has nothing to do with that! What do these people from the City want with me?"

"Believe me, your mother and I are asking the same questions," Dad says. "That, and what the hell is this Academy that they're from? I've never heard of it, but apparently it's really high end. Shouldn't it be famous?"

"I know. Something is really fishy about what they're up to," Mom decides. "Why else would they be so secretive about it?"

"Maybe they're vampires," Dad suggests.

Mom and I both turn to look at him as if he is crazy.

"What?" he asks innocently. "It explains why they took your blood."

I roll my eyes. "Very funny, Dad."

"Yeah, and they targeted you specifically because of the whole fire thing. With your Examination. Aren't vampires afraid of fire or something? Because it can kill them?"

I try not to show my discomfort at the mention of fire, biting my tongue and making my expression neutral. "Dad. You're thinking of sunlight."

"Idiot," Mom adds.

And then we're all laughing. Dad starts making up conspiracy theories, and then, after a few minutes of Mom and I making fun of them, we start joining in. When Dr. Larson and Kira return, all three of us are still overcome with giggles.

Kira coughs loudly and obnoxiously, interrupting us, and Mom immediately falls silent, shooting her a glare.

"May we please have a word with Elayne?" she asks, a fake smile plastered on her face. I wonder if Dr. Larson told her to play nice while they were gone, or if she's just trying to be on her best behavior while he is watching so that he maintains a good impression of her. Either way, there's no way her politeness is genuine. It almost sounds mocking.

"Go ahead. Talk to her," Mom snaps back. "She's right here."

"Alone," Kira spits out, teeth still clenched in that smile. It looks painful.

"What would you need to tell our daughter that you can't tell her while we are here?" Dad demands. "What are you trying to hide from us?"

"That is none of your business," Kira retorts.

Mom is on her feet in an instant. "Don't you dare--"

"Please!" Dr. Larson interjects. "It's just something confidential about the results of her blood test. We would like to share them with her first, and afterwards, she can relay the information to you."

"And you can't tell us all together because..." Dad trails off, pursing his lips.

"Because I--" Kira starts.

Dr. Larson holds up a hand, silencing her. "It is confidential, and it will be Elayne's choice whether she tells you about it or not."

"She'll tell us anyway!" Mom says angrily, clenching her fists. "That's a really pathetic excuse."

The man seems unfazed. "She may not tell you, actually. This is serious information we will be giving her, and you never know whether she would prefer to keep it a secret. Even if she's been honest with you before, this might be something she'd rather keep to herself, and she has every right to do that. Now, please, I really want to get moving. Please come with us, Elayne. We will be back in a few minutes." Before I can protest, Kira has her hand on my arm and is steering me out of the room with surprising strength.

"Are you serious?" I demand. "What on earth could you possibly tell me that I wouldn't tell my parents? I'm not going to keep secrets from them. Believe me, I've tried, but I'm not that sort of person. It doesn't work that way for me."

"I think you'll find this to be different."

I stare at Dr. Larson's back. What is it with his cryptic responses? "What do you--"

We stop in front of the door to another room, and he turns to face me. "Come in here, and we will explain everything to you. And then you can tell me what you make of it. But until we have finished, you might want to keep your thoughts to yourself."

Bewildered, I follow him into the room, which I suppose is a conference room of sorts, as it has a whiteboard across one wall and a table with several chairs surrounding it in the middle. A pitcher of water, along with two full glasses, rests on the table. I can't figure out why, but it seems oddly out of place. Dr. Larson takes a seat on one side of the table, and I hesitantly pull out a chair on the other side, while Kira remains standing in front of us. I get the distinct feeling that I am in a classroom with her as my teacher.

"I'll start with the basics," Kira begins, clasping her hands in front of her. "What I am about to tell you, Elayne, is something that everyone at the Academy has known since birth. Common knowledge. Something about you that is as essential as knowing your own name."

She pauses a little to add suspense, before looking me directly in the eye. When she speaks, I get chills down my back, though I don't completely understand what she's saying.

"Elayne Woodson, you are one of the Gifted."