Maxon

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I walked downstairs, a fake smile plastered on my face.

"Just be nice, Maxon," America said softly as a guard opened the door.

America's mother entered, and chucked her handbag at a guard.

"How's my favorite child?" She shrieked an awful noise that pierced my ears. Mrs. Singer ran and hugged America, and she embraced her warmly. Mrs. Singer withdrew, and asked, "How're the babies? They seemed healthy on TV. They just need some of my jelly salad." She laughed.

I gagged, remembering the taste of that awful dish.

"And Maxon! How are you, dear? Would you like some jelly salad, too? You need some meat on your bones. I'll whip up one." She hugged me, rather tightly, and I reluctantly hugged her back. America giggled when she saw my expression.

"Mrs. Singer, let me show you to your room." A guard offered his arm. I felt terrible for the man.

As Mrs. Singer talked his ear off about how she could do it by herself and walked off to find her room, I looked at the guard and mouthed a quick thank-you before rushing off to find Eadlyn and Ahren.

Of course, they were bothering Kile. Eadlyn wanted to play dress-up and kept shoving tiaras onto his head. Ahren was wanting to play cars, thrusting the toy into Kile's hand. I cleared my throat, and all three children looked up at me. Ahren screamed, "Daddy!" and ran towards me with the cars. Eadlyn looks back at Kile and begins styling his hair. Kile giggles, and messes up Eadlyn's hair in return. She shrieks in happiness. They're so cute together.

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