I had to stop Oliver from dressing me for my first day of eighth year. Uncle Flavio had dyed my hair tips blue a week ago, and  I showed it off in a messy bun. I looked amazing, if I did say so myself.

Oliver kissed me goodbye as I ran out the doorway. I tried to keep myself from blushing, heat already staining my face. I didn't want people seeing me as a little kid on the first day. I would have never lived it down.

Because it was Québec, we had an hour a day dedicated to French. It was stupid. The teacher asked us who was taught French as a baby, and six of us raised our hands. He had us sit at a table together. Then, he asked who took French in primary school, and all but three people raised their hands.

He began to talk about the class and what we would learn over the year. I began to tune him out, and so did most the people at my table. We rolled our eyes, sharing each other's pain.

"This is so stupid," a girl whispered to me in French. She had a clean, pink dyed pixie cut.

"I know, right? Why do we have to take this  stupid class?" I scoffed. She laughed, shaking her head.

"We could have it worse. I heard last year they had a Spanish class for people who already knew French." My eyes widened.

"Seriously? That's crazy. There can't be that many of us in one school," She gave me a weird look. Apparently, that was not the expected response.

"Where are you from?" Her French accent was slight and barely noticeable. Depending on which words she used, she could pass for a native English speaker.

"Toronto," I answered. She nodded her head in understanding.

"Yeah. A bunch of people here speak French. It's a French Province, after all." My cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she didn't seem to notice. "That's why my family moved here. My dad works at a bank and says all the clerks have to speak French."

"Weird."

"C'est la vie, as my dad likes to say. Better for us, I guess. What's your name?" My eyes darted away for a minute. That was always a sensitive topic. People used to tease me for my odd name, including my brothers at times.

"Maelynn. But I just use Lynn," I said a bit quickly. "You?"

"Fae." she sighed. I couldn't help but laugh.

"You're kidding. Your parents named you Fairy?" She face-palmed in exasperation, groaning.

"Ugh. I know, right? It's so stupid." Her cheeks began to match her hair. I shook my head.

"No. That's awesome. I wish I had a name like that. All I get is people failing to say my name right." She smiled, empathetic.

"Can't these Canadians learn how to read?" We laughed together. It was nice to have someone to relate to. There weren't a lot of French people in my old schools. Most were born in Canada and only knew English. I didn't care much, or at least I told myself I didn't, but I was glad I finally met someone who was like me.

"Mesdemoiselles!" The teacher was looking at us, seeming very upset. He had a nasally voice, one that I would have to hear throughout middle school. I used to joke that he dressed like a pimp.

"Oui?" We both said, looking at each other. We knew this couldn't be good.

"Would you like to share avec classe what was so funny?" We shared looks.

"No merci." We said too quickly. He gave us pointed looks.

"No merci, monseir," he corrected. He sighed.

"I will let both of you off with a warning since it is the first day. But please, try to pay attention in the future." He went back to explaining what we would be doing for the next two weeks.

"Oh my God," I sighed. "First day and I'm already in trouble. Won't Allen be proud." She gave me a knowing smirk. She was very pretty, I realized.

"I remember last year I got in trouble for putting a bug down this one boy's shirt." The way she said it, Fae sounded like she was bragging. Two could play at this game. I gave her a miscevious smile.

"That's nothing. I once got suspended for shoving an ant pile down someone's underwear." This seemed to take the cupcake. Her face morphed into disgust. She hugged herself protectively, shivering.

"Gross!" But she was still smiling, clearly impressed.

"Whatever. He was asking for it." In all honesty, I should've done worse. He said all my family belonged in prison and were just a bunch of crazy psychos. So I helped him lose three of his baby teeth. Hey, I was just trying to help.

We spent the rest of class talking about ourselves. She's been suspended four times and once put a boy in the hospital for a broken arm. She had an annoying brother who always tried to steal her stuff.

She was surprised to find out that I had four brothers who all took care of me. I shrugged it off. People usually had that reaction when they realized that I didn't live with my parents. No one ever realized I was adopted.

I knew no one else the first day. The other students avoided me, the reason eluding me. She was my sole lunchmate that day.

••••••••••

"Maelynn? Come on. They've made their decision." I sat up groggily, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

"What? Who?" Mattie lightly tugged on my arm, slowly lifting me to my feet.

"The U.N.R. Come on. You'll want to hear this." We jogged to the meeting room, and it looked exactly how I had left. Well, other than the fact that everyone looked exhausted, not just me.

"How long was I out?" I whispered.

"Not long. About forty-five minutes."

"Forty-five minutes?!"

"Shh." He lead me to our chairs, and the talking quickly started again.
"Maelynn Bonnefoy, the meeting has reached a conclusion." Germany said. "Since you are almost of legal adult age, you will stay under the jurisdiction of the Republic of Canada until you finish your school career."

"What about my family?" His face remained neutral, void of any emotion.

"You are no longer to interact with the men Allen Jones, Oliver Kirkland, Matt Williams, and François Bonnefoy." Never see my brothers again. I would never go back to my old life. I didn't even feel the tears drip.

"We will contact them separately and tell them that you are now under our jurisdiction. Canada will give you further details outside." My body seemed to shut down. I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. The terrible words just repeated in my head over and over again. Never see them again. Never see them again.

Never see them again.

"That's bullshit." My mouth moved before I could register what I was saying.

"Beg pardon?" There was no remorse for what I said. I didn't feel much of anything at that point.

"You heard me. That's bullshit. Why am I not allowed to see my family again?" He opened his mouth but I quickly cut him off. "I know it's against the rules. I get that. But just because you guys have some ancient rivalries and hatred against the 2Ps doesn't mean you just get to push your stupid feelings on everyone else. Why can't I ever talk to them again? There isn't any harm in me seeing them." Everyone gave me either shocked or downright horrified expressions. I rolled my eyes, just thinking about their stupid adoption rule. "Look, I promise not to tell anyone about your identity. That would hurt my family, too. And once I turn 18 I'll go off to college, an independent adult. But please. I have to see my family again." It was silent until Britain turned his attention to America, a confused look on his face.

"You never told her the truth, did you?" America's face went red, and I saw Mattie go pale.

"We told her as much as we could. We couldn't bear her knowing that-"

"So you didn't tell her?" I looked between the three men.

"Tell me what? America, what is he talking about?" He didn't answer. I turned to Mattie. "Mattie?" They said they would tell me something, but I didn't realize it was so serious. They stayed silent, and apparently that was too much for Britain.

"So you just left this girl in the dark? About who she's been living with for the past decade? You couldn't spare any decency, even on your own citizen." Mattie flinched. I glared at the two.

"What is he talking about? Tell me."

"Since those two wish to keep you in the dark, I suppose I should enlighten you." His tone was condescending, and I was growing to like him less and less. "The men you have been living with - the 2Ps -" he said the title like an insult. "Are, in fact, Personifications just like us. However, that is where the similarities end. We 1Ps are born of our people's cooperation, love and brotherhood. Created from the partnership and mutual trust of our citizens, we personify everything that is good in our country.

"However," his voice turned cold, as if he was telling a terrible horror story. "The 2Ps are just the opposite. They are born from our citizens, yes. But instead of being made from the good, they represent all of the evil within our borders. All of the prejudice, sin, and crime coagulate to form the 2Ps. And because of this, they become murderous. Insane. They are a danger to everyone, Personifications and humans alike. Each of your so called 'brothers' is a murderer of the innocent and as corrupt and cruel as the worst people in history."

It took a while for me to process his words, and then I started laughing. Not a healthy and joyous laugh. No, even I could tell it was just from stress and the utter ridiculousness of his words. The laugh scared even myself. I tried not to think too much about it, the pain in my chest tightening.

"You've got to be kidding. The guys as murderers? I know they're a little weird, and their rep sheet isn't perfect, but they're not that bad." My laughter died down, and I noticed that neither Mattie nor America looked at me. The rest of the Representatives gave me various shades of pitying looks. My nervous smile fell slowly.

"That can't be true. Right, Mattie? They're not murderers, or insane. It's not true. It just can't be." My voice went higher, going faster and faster. My heart beat in my ears, and my breathing became frantic.

"No. That's just wrong. They wouldn't hurt anyone." But even as I said it, I knew my words were false. My right hand twitched. "They never hurt me. They were good people. They are good people. They can't possibly-" I couldn't go on anymore, the lump in my throat stopping my words. The room was silent.

"Germany, the papers, please." Britain said softly. A few manila folders were placed in front of me, on each one a stereotypical red 'Top Secret' stamp. Hands shaking, I could barely get them open. When I did, I couldn't keep my eyes off of them.

In each folder was the information of my four brothers, and every single crime they had ever committed. Burglary, possession of drugs, forging of documents, assault, murder, rape, you name it. Including photo evidence of them carrying out these acts. I shivered, my body finally going numb. Each had their individual mugshots dating all the way back to the 19th century. It was undoubtedly my brothers, if I could even call them that anymore.

Oliver's mugshot was purely maniacal. His mouth was open, as if he was laughing at the camera.

Allen was restrained by the neck, someone holding him down for his picture.

François was screaming in his photo, eyes wide and teeth showing in malice.

And Matt. My brother. His clothes were stained with a darkness I knew too well. His smile was just as bloody.

I thought I heard someone talking, but I couldn't tell. All I could do was stare at the papers, as if they were my own death sentence. I didn't even flinch when America placed his hand on my shoulder. Slowly, my body seemed to work again.

"-didn't want you to know." He said. My eyes focused a little, though my vision was still foggy. My body felt like molasses.

"What?" Even in my muted state, I knew I sounded. . . quite not there. America heard it, too. He gave me a pitying look, a grimace on his face.

"We never wanted you to know the truth. We thought we were protecting you from it. I'm sorry you had to find out this way." I didn't even respond. I didn't know if I could. Everything felt unreal at that moment. It all seemed like a dream. In a minute, I would wake up back in my bed by Oliver nagging about how I needed to stop pulling all-nighters. Then, Matt and I would watch morning TV, and I would grudge about school and talk about my friends. Allen would make fun about my hair or my makeup, and François would just hand me a cigarette, taking a sip of his wine.

But I knew that was never going to happen again. That part of my life was over. I knew the truth now. The curtain had been pulled, I could see clearly now. But that didn't mean I didn't want to return back to the dark.