The Selection

Chapter Four

I would've told you that one hundred people came to our house during the next few days but only 5 people actually did. One was a snobby, short, bony lady who had just sat and re-asked all of the questions that I put on my application form because they wanted to make sure that I wasn't lying. Seriously!? I don't even want to do this, why would I lie?  

The second person who came to our house was an official palace guard who gave our house an entire once-over and to go over security measures with us. So at least I should be safe from rebels on my way to the palace, that's great. One more thing to stress about besides 'competing' with 34 teenage girls. The guard also talked to the local soldiers in my district about "keeping Lady Sydney perfectly safe from any kind of  danger." Hmm, Lady Sydney, don't know if I quite like it yet.

Our phone rang constantly with congratulation calls from people that we worked for that knew us well like Ms. Hanson, I even got a call from Jacob. Throughout the week I had six phone calls from some high proper woman named Nancy Phillips, and she just wanted know if we needed anything or to just check how I was doing that day. She sounded very nice but also serious. 

Then there was this other guy that came to our house and he had a bald head but his face was covered in hair, you know, like a beard and mustache or whatever. I can't recall his name at the moment but he came to take all my measurement for my new wardrobe, for my dresses. How was I gonna wear a dress? I think the last one I wore was when I was probably 5 years old and it was this small little red dress I wore for some kind of parade. He was probably the only visitor I liked that came that week, but the last guy, he was. . . uggh. 

On Tuesday morning, around nine or so, a man who looked to be in about his late 20's knocked on our door. It was three days before I was supposed to leave and go to the palace. Since people had been coming and going from our house, me and the boys had begun to sleep in the living room. Trae usually gave up and would go sleep in his room but Max always stayed with me till morning. So that morning when the man knocked on the door Max answered while I rubbed sleep from my eyes. 

As soon as I felt half awake I made my way to the front door where Max was making small talk with the very nervous, young gentleman. Max acted as if he were brought up as a Three or a Two and politely invited him inside and asked if he wanted something to drink.

"Tea would be splendid, thank you Max." The man states as he takes a sit at our wooden table. "What a nicely carved table, did you do this Miss Sydney? I hear your carving skills are spectacular." 

"Thank you, but no. Our mother carved it herself and the boys did the chairs a few weeks ago." I tell him just as Max comes back with the man's tea and Dad and Trae are walking down the stairs. Well, Tare walks, Dad uses his crutches skillfully.

"Is your mother out on a job We can wait till she gets back so we can talk." He asks.

"Uh, no, we can't. My Mom. . . she, um-" I looked at Dad for an answer. We're we allowed to talk about how Mom joined the rebels and abandoned her kids and her country? I had no idea. I mean, this guy was the first to ask about her being absent.

"She passed." Trae says almost bitter and cold making me look at him with a tilt in my head. But I nodded at the man and took a seat at the table, Max brought me a wooden cup of tea too. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, I didn't know. So, Mr. Palmer you will have to be present during this but Max and. . ."

"Trae, sir."

"Max and Trae, you two will have to leave the room while we discuss this information." Max and Trae shared a glance with Dad then themselves but eventually left the room and ended up going outside to the backyard. What could be so confidential that Max and Trae couldn't hear? And why did he want to talk with my Mom?