America
Celia had seemed wrapped up in her own world for the entire meeting. She left with our assurances that we would get in touch with her parents and bring them to the palace as soon as we could.

When the door closed behind her, Maxon turned to look at me a grin spreading across his face, "I don't think that could have gone much better," he said.

I wasn't so sure. Celia hadn't even made eye contact with either of us since the second we told her the truth. But I convinced myself that I should expect nothing less. She was Celia, not Celeste. She had her own parents who had loved her and raised her, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what thoughts would be running through her head.

"We need to get her parents here," I said, "not just because she wants them, they need to be questioned, we need to find out if they knew anything about her other than that she had been abandoned."

Maxon still seemed too elated to think too hard about what I was saying, but he nodded anyway.

"And the boys, someone needs to tell the boys. And keep the press away, they can't hear about any of this until we're ready, and-"

"America, please slow down," Maxon had gotten to his feet, and taken my hands in his, "take a breath and be happy for a moment. We finally found her, we found our daughter!"

********

Celia

I went directly back to my room, a thousand thoughts running through my head. My three maids greeted me, Elana immediately noticed that something was wrong, and asked me about it. But I hurried to dismiss them, wanting to be alone.

I sat in the middle of my massive bed with my knees pulled up to my chest, having thrown off my heels, and pulled my hair out of its tight updo.

I was still somewhat convinced that it was all a big joke. I couldn't possibly be a Princess, I wasn't the daughter of Maxon and American Schreave, I was the daughter of Wednesday and Quentin Gardener.

My heart panged for my mother, I wanted her to come and hug me and tell me that all of this was a bad dream and that I would wake up in my bed and the selection would never have happened. It was beyond insane and all I wanted was for my parents to be here so that they could hug me and reassure me that it was all a lie.

The bottom section of my dress was decorated with roses, and the flowers fanned out around me, making me ache to be back in our little garden at home, I would even prefer to be shovelling manure at the local stables like I sometimes did when we were short on money. I would rather be anywhere outside of these walls, which were so beautiful, yet also so cold.

Hours passed, and I continued to sit alone in my bedroom, staring at the roses on my dress in this alien world with these alien people.