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"We all have them, every four-year-old like you gets to come in and get their chip. However, not all of them have curls as pretty as yours," I whisper quietly, giving her cheek a slight pinch.

Her laugh lights up the silent space like a star in a dark sky. Even Amy smiles. Placing the chip in my hand, I reach for the small incision blade, keeping Lily's attention away from my hands.

"Why is your belly so big?" Lily questions. Her eyes stay focused on my torso as I tap behind her ear. She doesn't react to pressure on her skin. Good to know. The numbing properties of the wipe have already gone into effect.

It’s easy to look past the lack of weight on most people in New Haven. The food regulations have made it impossible to put on excess weight. Even when pregnant, my portions have only grown by a few measly extra calories. We can blame the old society's obesity and health issues for that lovely regulation.

"My daughter is in there," I say, pressing the thin blade down the back of her ear.

Amy winces at the sight with a look of disgust. Slowly, I gravitate closer, watching the chip's spindles seep into the cut, its light moving from a dull white to light green. Clenching her palm, Lily's nose flares as she takes in a sharp breath, her eyes blinking repeatedly at the lingering feeling of the chip slipping behind her skin. The green light grows duller behind the skin of her ear. Quickly, I spray on a dose of our Cure-All, watching her skin close as the lesion becomes nothing but the scar that we all share.

"What's your daughter’s name?" Lily questions, her hand gravitating behind her ear, feeling her new scar.

"Forest," I say, staring at the Re-Regulation Device on the tray. It blinks in an attempt to pair with her chip.

"Maybe when she is out of you, I can meet her," Lily says.

Caught off guard by her tiny hand landing on my stomach, I stare at her with wide eyes as she smiles at the bump. Forest's feet kick beneath her touch, Lily letting out a small chuckle at the gesture.

The pure innocence that looms over her is nothing short of euphoric.

"I would like that very much," I say.

Amy's voice clears.

"Ma'am, it's ready," Amy whispers. Refocusing my attention on the Re-Regulation Device, its green light syncs up with Lily's neuro chip in gentle strobes. Looking flustered, Lily pulls her hand away from my stomach. Grabbing the device with steady hands, her eyes are wide as she looks over the slight gleam of the green light. As always, I program the usual set of commands into the device.

Stand with verbal cues.

The device's screen flashes as I begin running the simple code.

"Alright, Lily, go ahead and stand up for me," I order.

With no hesitation, she slides off the chair, her tiny feet hitting the floor with a thud. Turning toward her teddy, my fingers are already inputting the following command.

Leave the teddy bear on the chair.

My stomach drops as her hand continues to reach for the small bear, her hands enclosing around its soft material, dragging it closer to her petite frame, my throat going dry as I try to process what has just happened.

"I must have input the code wrong," I whisper, frantically retyping the code. Amy's confusion consumes her face, her eyes still fixated on Lily. I angle my body away from prying eyes, not once letting anyone see the device or the codes being input into it. I type in the prompt again, run the program, and wait for her to place the teddy bear where I have coded her to do so.

She never does.

"Dr. Blackburn, is everything alright?" Amy questions silently.

"Lily, put the bear back on the chair," I commanded clearly to the wide-eyed girl.

With great hesitance, she puts it back.

"Amy, grab the scalpel," I order, the nurse's attention finally focusing back on me. With a nod, she grabs the small blade, Lily's hands shaking as I input the next set of code. The cool metal of the medical device presses into my palm like an unbearable weight. Once filled with pure innocence, the space around me is now filled with nothing but fear.

"What are you doing?" Lily questions, her voice lined with fear.

"Amy, run the program," I order, watching the nurse's perfectly manicured fingers press down on the screen of the Re-Regulation Device.

Cut the right pointer and forget the action. End Expulsion test.

"Lily, I need you to cut your right pointer finger, and then I want you to forget it all. Please, tell me you can do that for me," I whisper as I press the blade into her hand. The shift between confusion and fear in her eyes has never been more haunting.

Her small hand tosses the blade across the room, a look of confusion and fear swirling in her eyes—the surgical tool skids across the white tile floor. Lily moves to grasp her teddy bear.

My heart rate accelerates, my body turning toward Amy with a panic I had not noticed had crept inside me.

"Rerun it!" I yell in a plea.

Once more, Amy hits the Re-Regulation Device's screen. Lily continues to flee toward her furry sense of comfort.

"What's going on?" Amy mutters in a shaky voice.

Feeling my frustrations rise as I look at the small girl's flailing figure, I see it now: no more smiles for her parents, no more small euphoric laughs, no more stolen moments of happiness.

"Grab her," I utter, both of us moving toward the terrified child. Her hands barely reach her teddy bear as I hold her head down. Her arms and legs begin to kick, her body thrashing against our strength. Amy looks distraught at the sight, only adding to the weight of shame suddenly looming over me. As I reach for the Halloway Gas, my eyes fill with a blurry mess of emotion.

"I promise I will do better!" Lily screams at the top of her lungs as I continue to hold her down. Feeling my hands shake, I force the small mask over her screaming mouth, her lungs burning with determination to pull away from us. Her instinct to fight runs through her, urging my hand to press down harder. Listening to her pain escape her throat, I motion for Amy to flip on the gas.

"It wasn't your fault. There is no other way," I yell in a petrified tone, doing all I can to hold it together, the odorless gas working through the mask with ease.

Her strong kicks and hard grasp on us slowly decrease the longer her screams force her to intake the gas. Her body's valiant fight only grows weaker with each small whimper escaping her lungs. Her chest's large heaves die down to nothing. The bright sparkle in her eyes fades away, shrouded by the watchful shadow of death. The hand clenching the tail of the teddy loosens its grasp, her eyes hazy as life drains from her. My hands shake, trailing across the switch that dictates the gas's release. Stopping her body from slumping to the floor, I move her back into a comfortable position in the chair, no fight left in the small, lifeless body. Amy looks flustered, her eyes scanning over the young child. Tears roll down my cheeks, painting Lily's front in wet abrasive splotches.

"Time of death for patient Lily Evermoore-" I begin, letting my eyes land on the one clock in the room.

It's hard not to laugh at the vile humor in how little time has passed.

Only twenty minutes.

"4:35 PM," I finish, urging Amy's reluctant figure closer to my computer to update her chart. Feeling my emotions grow as I touch my stomach; Lily's blonde curls are now a matted mess from the resistance of her head against my hand.

"She was Tainted," I continue as I draw deep breaths. "She's no longer an Untouchable,"

"What is her class now?" Amy questions, my hands searching under the small girl's shirt for any sign of her altered genetic makeup. Right on her hip bone, I see it now, an intricate white scar with overlapping crescent patterns and circles. It clings to her perfect skin like a diamond in the rough. With astonishment, I allow my fingers to pass over the slight imperfection—scarred, rigid skin.

Imperfect in all the right ways.

"She's Marked…Change her class to Tainted," I whisper, Amy's head returning toward the screen. Feeling myself move the teddy bear back into Lily’s arms as I draw shaky breath, Amy's hands still on the keyboard as if she struggles to fathom what to type. Watching her blankly stare as her eyes absorb the screen's light, her once quick movements are now sluggish.

"Take your break, beautiful. You didn't see anything happen in this room," a booming voice says as the door swings open.

Watching Amy blink back her stare, a dull green light gleams behind her ear, her body moving in uniform precision as she blankly stares toward the door's exit. Two Officials stand, holding the door open with cheeky grins, a Re-Regulation Device pointed straight at Amy, her eyes blank as she casually walks past the pair. I see the tiny black bag slung over the tallest man's shoulder, my throat going dry, my hand already using my sweater to wipe away the few tears that had escaped my eyes. Lily's open file still has no class. With a few steps, the men move toward the computer, changing her class to Tainted as I had instructed Amy to do.

"She was going to change the class. Why utilize her chip? She was doing her job just fine," I question, shaking my head at the men.

"Commander’s new rules. The fewer people that know of the Marked, the better," the taller man, Adam, says with a great deal of disgust toward me.

I've seen Adam at quite a few socials thrown for Official families every so often. On the surface, he seems charming. He's a man my husband often finds companionship in. Personally, I have always found him insufferably egotistical.

"That would have been lovely to know before I allowed her to help me administer an Expulsion Test," I hiss with annoyance. Adam shakes his head as his counterpart, Nick, pulls the bag away from his large friend's grasp. The men move toward Lily with careless banter. Moving in front of the men, my hands are raised in front of me in defense.

"She has parents waiting outside in the lobby for her-"

"Good thing their chips work. Maybe they never really had a daughter," Nick says, his hands shoving the black bag to the floor, his knuckles white as he forces the bag open. Adam's hands gently move me, pulling me further from the chair. I can feel Forest's kicks accelerate as my heart rate begins to climb. Adam's hand spins his Re-Regulation Device, tapping it to the side of my head with a taunt, his finger rising to my cheek to wipe away a wet spot I had missed. I watch his eyes narrow the longer he watches me, the clench he has on my arm becoming that much more uncomfortable.

"I hope you were not crying over something as filthy as a Marked," Adam hisses, both of us watching Nick drag Lily's body off the chair and straight to the floor. Her motionless figure rolls into the body bag with ease. I wince at the sight of Nick tossing her teddy into the bin where all the discarded needles go. Her lifeless eyes stick to mine as Nick slowly zips up the bag. My jaw clenches in a sorry attempt to try and refocus my thoughts. "Because if you were, we would need to reconsider your position as head of the Expulsion Test Administration," Adam finishes, forcing my chin toward him to allow my eyes to meet his own.

This is how Officials are. They are arrogant and cocky bastards who feel as if they are above everyone else. Hand one of them a light sensor prod and give them the authority to dictate, and you get Adam. His gray beard and piercing dark brown eyes make him look years older than he is. I feel it now, his utter want to be above everyone in this room.

"If I recall, you have a mother who was saved by my Cure-All and a sister whose kidney was replaced in advance of thirty other Unfortunates who were in line before her simply because you knew me. I suggest you tread carefully in how you speak to me. Don’t ever question my commitment to my job or my loyalty to Sanctum," I hiss back.

Adam's face pulls into a look of satisfaction, his mouth releasing a small scoff. Grunting as he slings the bag over his shoulder, Nick shoves past me, hauling the girl's frail body away from the premises.

"For the sake of your daughter's life," Adam says with a small press to my stomach. "I hope your loyalty runs true," Adam says in anything but a sincere tone.

Is that a threat?

"What do you do with the Marked?" I question. "When an Untouchable or Unfortunate dies, we take them to be cremated. Why bag a Marked body?" I ask with a great deal of sincerity.

"Knowing that information is outside your job description, Katiana. I would focus on getting this place back together. You still have one more Expulsion test, and it's on an Unfortunate, " he says disgustedly. "So, make sure you use the thick pair of gloves before getting near it ," Adam says in a snap.

Like Nick, he moves toward the door's exit, tapping the clock above the doorway. Watching his mouth upturn into a cat-like grin, a maniacal laugh gently bellows from his chest.

"Only thirty minutes left on your shift; maybe you can take out another Marked and an Unfortunate all at once," Adam sneers, shutting the door with a thud.

My breath shudders. My mind reflects on the girl's parents and what they have unknowingly lost. Years of memories of a child they had raised and nurtured, stolen in a mere few moments with a chip they have been told is there to monitor their health.

A whole life stolen from their minds, as if their daughter never even existed.

"Doctor Blackburn, your final patient is on their way in," the intercom says in a loud, scratchy tone, forcing me to focus on the room, allowing my mind to retrace the chaos that had ensued.

"This is the only way," I remind myself, working to rearrange my items back into optimal appearance. The knob slowly turns once more. A young brunette boy in tattered clothing meets my line of vision. His toothy grin grows wide while mine stays smothered by the weight of my actions.

"It has to be," I finish, shoving down the large lump in my throat and forcing on a new pair of gloves.