I have never been inside the Government before.

Granted, I am only in the offices right now, and while this area is capacious, it is a small portion of the large world of the Government. Still, everything looks professional and clean. Everything, from the ceiling to the walls to the floors, shines with a white light. There isn’t a single chair or table that doesn’t glow as bright as the lights hanging overhead.

The extravagant decorations must have something to do with the Government’s ambitious style. Even the people sparkle with a light different from my own. The whole place screams of wealth, technology, and perfection, and while I am in awe of all that I see, I am also reluctant to fully embrace it.

How can one work in an environment like this? How can one be just, when all one sees are the rich, comfortable parts of the state?

I walk down a wide corridor with thick, broad pillars supporting the above floor. There are open doors on either side of us, but my mother doesn’t enter one. Instead, she focuses on walking forward and keeps shut, allowing the click of her heels to echo across the empty hallway. I risk a whisper and inquire, “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to the council room,” she tells me.

“That’s where you work?”

“That’s where we have our meetings,” she corrects. “There are only thirteen of us. Twelve council members, and one judge.”

“The most important guy,” I take note.

“Exactly. Can you tell me something about him?” She challenges me. “You should know this for the test.”

I shuffle through the information in my head that I have memorized over the past few months until I find the one I need. “A judge is selected every four years by means of votes. Council member votes count for 50% while Argent votes count for 30%, and Brass votes count for 20%. A judge is a person who confirms the decisions made by the council member, and is the one who is most in lead of the entire state. He doesn’t hold more power than the council, but he is the one who can allow that power to be used. And …” I should know this! “ ... the current judge is Shore.”

“Hey,” my mom smiles as she lightly taps my head with her knuckles, “pretty good.” She folds her arms as she continues to walk. “How are you doing, honey?”

“With what?” I ask, pretending not to understand the question.

“Well, this is where your dad worked. You’ve never been here before. And with the things you know now, about his sacrificing himself for science to improve … do you sense anything bad about the place?” My mom looks at me, and I can tell she honestly wants to know how I am feeling. She wants to know whether I am still as obsessed with my father’s death now as I was before.

I am interested, yes. But not obsessed. Right now, the past is not as important as the present. Right now, the only present that matters to me is Luhan. What is he doing right now, staying at home by himself? I have left him alone before, but this time feels different. This time, I feel like I am losing him.

I can’t scare myself with thoughts like that. I need to answer my mom.

“I’m all right,” I say sincerely. I try to say something else, but words have fled my mind. I close my eyes briefly and shake my head to show that I don’t want to pursue the subject. My mom understands, and she does not bother me about it anymore.

When we arrive in front of a tall door made of the sleekest, most reflective steel I have ever scene, we stop and straighten our backs instinctively. My mom raises her hand and rests it on a black tablet embedded into the center of the doors. When the machine finishes scanning her hand, she pulls away and pushes me forward.

“What?” I ask her.

“Put your hand there,” she orders. I rest my hand on the cold screen and watch as the neon bar slides below the glass surface, illuminating the silhouette of my hand in a smoky green. I am about to pull back when I feel a slight prick on my index finger.

“The heck was that?” I bite my lip and retract my hand. There is a dot of blood on my finger. I wipe it against my pants.

“It’s mandatory for first-time visitors,” she says brightly. The doors slide open, revealing a black room. When she crosses the entryway, the lights snap on.

Furniture is sparse. There is a high, black table with six chairs on either side. One end of the table holds a chair while the