America
The fourth girl that I met sent my head spinning. I had looked up when she walked in, and been met with chocolate coloured eyes, the same shape and shade as Maxon's. This was enough to bash down my walls, but on top of that, there was the same nose as my two sons, and my mother's facial shape. But the thing that really sent me over the edge was this girl's hair. She had my hair, the exact same shade.

I think I was a lot more rude to her than I should have been, and I could tell she had noticed the way I was looking at her, but I couldn't help it. In front of me was sat the ghost of my daughter.

I could hardly sit through the other 66 girls without fidgeting, they must've all suspected me of being hyperactive, or just plain rude, but I thought it was a miracle that I managed to sit through the meetings at all.

All that I wanted to do since the girl had walked out of the door was run to Maxon, to be sure that I wasn't the only one to have seen her, to be sue that I hadn't finally gone crazy after all these years of being under so much pressure.

"Maxon!" I ran into his arms the moment that the last of the selected girls had departed. He pulled me in close, and held me tightly. "It wasn't just my imagination was it? You saw her too?"

"Yes my darling, I saw her too," he said, running a hand over my head. We broke apart, and I noticed Shalom and Aspen standing there awkwardly.

"Why don't you two go and have some dinner," I told them, "the Selected girls will be there, and I'm sure that Marlee wants to hear all about today." I patted Shalom's shoulder, "if you see Aspen there, could you send him to your father's office please."

"Of course," Shalom kissed my forehead. Aspen did the same, then the two of them headed off for dinner together.

"We need to work out if this is our imagination," said Maxon, running his hands through his hair and pacing.

I took his hands into mine, making him look at me, "let's go to your office, it's more private in there, anyone could wander here, we can work it all out there."

He silently agreed, and we hurried to Maxon's office, shutting the door behind us.

His office was full of photographs, covering the walls and his desk. In pride of place on his desk, was a photograph of the two of us on our wedding day, beside that was the only photograph of our family- and by that I mean all of our family. It was taken just a few weeks after the triplets were born, it had been used as the official birth announcement photograph. In the photo, I was sat down, holding Shalom and AJ in my lap, smiling ridiculously widely. Maxon stood beside me, holding Celeste in his arms. Whilst I was looking at the camera, Maxon was looking at me and the boys, a proud smile on his face. Celeste had been taken from us less than a week after that photograph was taken.

There was a knock on the door, that startled us both from our thoughts.

"Come in," I said, slumping down into a chair beside the desk.

The door opened, and in walked Aspen. He was, as usual, in his uniform. He had a concerned look on his face as he closed the door behind him.

"Mer?" He asked, once the door was shut and the three of us were alone, "what's the matter?" I simply shook my head, I couldn't get the words out to describe exactly what was going through my head.

"Aspen," Maxon said wearily, "could you get us the personal file of Lady Celia Gardener please, and be as discreet as you can." Aspen was clearly confused, but he left the room to do as we had asked.

Maxon and I stared at eachother, neither of us was able to speak, so our eyes said a thousand words that our lips did not. Hope that there was even a slim chance that our daughter could have returned to us.

There was a small knock at the door, and a maid walked in, "your majesties, the filming of the report is about to begin." I sucked in a breath, with all that had been on our minds, we had totally forgotten about the report.

"Tell the princes that the Queen and I will not be attending the report tonight," said Maxon, "give them and Gavril our apologies, and our promise that we will return next week."

"Of course," the maid bowed her head, and left the room, walking past Aspen in the doorway. Aspen nodded to her and closed the door behind himself. He strode across the room and placed a thin file on Maxon's desk.

Maxon picked it up, and I stood so that I could read it over his shoulder.

Name: Celia Gardener
Date of Birth: Unknown
Birth Parents: Unknown
Guardian(s): Quentin Gardener and Wednesday Gardener
Status: Alive

Maxon quickly flipped that page over, and we saw a certificate of adoption, dated just a few weeks after Celeste had been abducted.

"Is this all that we have?" I asked, looking up at Aspen.

"Yes," he nodded, "as far as I can gather, her parents were sevens. They struggled to have children for years, and then out of nowhere an orphan little girl showed up at the local church and they took her in."

I looked back down at the paper, biting my lip as I let all of this information sink in.

"Mer, what's so important about this girl?" Aspen asked.

I let out a breath, and looked back up at him, "we think she might be Celeste."