ARRIVAL (ERA 1)

21 | re-Evaluation

Tin Smyth came to collect me at 7:00 A.M. We headed straight to the Municipal building –only this time instead of blistering summer heat we were greeted by a glacial freeze. Even my fur-lined boots were no match for the weather. At least the sky had stopped emptying buckets of snow on Kemper.

"Perfect. The panel has already arrived," Smyth announces as we arrive at the building.

A carriage fashioned to a pair of ebony horses is stationed to the left of the entrance. On the side door is an intricate gold engraving –an emblem of some sort, accompanied by familiar script: Mount Gomery, Sycoma City. Under these words are new ones, ones that I've never seen before, a dictum of sorts: Last Old, First New.

My eyes shift upward. Through the petite, oval window I make out the facial features of Helga Hawthorne.

I loathe the carriage and its contents.

They're all in town for me. Just the thought makes my stomach drop. I note the lettering again. I've never heard of Montgomery, but I can only assume it's the city where the C.R.I.S. Headquarters is located in Sycoma.

"You hanging in there, Miss Katton?" Tin Smyth examines my not so calm exterior.

"Yes." I nod, unaware that I've been clenching my fists in my mittens.

"Excellent. Well, you know the routine. Chase will have his Evaluation first. There will be a short interim and then you'll go. Re-Evaluations are always second," he says.

I nod again and my gaze falls on the patch of scars that climbs his jaw line.

"You're the only re-Evaluation set for this afternoon, so we should convene earlier than anticipated. You'll be back at the cabin before you can miss it," he affirms.

I follow Smyth through the doors and to the clerk's desk where Reggie directs us down the corridor.

Hall 3 again.

I haven't been inside the long rectangular room since my K-Day, but it is just as I remember. Smyth conducts me to the same chair as before. He looks at me sideways but doesn't spark up conversation. I'm thankful for this. Instead, I stare forward and daydream of the million possible other places I would rather be.

One by one, sightseers pack inside. Most of the people I expect to see –but then I spot two grey haired figures reclined in the last row of benches. It's the Shaw couple.

Hart is overly nosy and thrives off of gossip. Tin Todd is as dreamy as ever. I have no doubt he's on my side. I ogle from across the court table –at the charcoal scarf contrasting his pale snow-white skin. I have not had a ton of time to acquaint myself with him, but I suspect he is too innocent to judge people.

"It's almost time," announces Smyth, leaning in. "Are you ready?"

"Ready to get it over with," I mumble in a low, gruff voice.

Helga Hawthorne strolls down the aisle, trailed by four board members of the C.R.I.S. I quickly recognize Kline and Caine and if I remember correctly, they are wearing the exact same outfits as before. My focus shifts to the two new faces eying me surreptitiously from behind the others.

Both figures fall into stride behind Charles Caine. They are male and substantially younger than my board members. The taller of the two is supremely handsome with wavy dark hair piled on his head and a complementary 5:00 shadow. My first thought: native. Then I notice his pallid skin and sunken features and I reconsider.