"Miss," the voice seemed to be coming from somewhere deep inside a dream. "Miss, it's time to wake up. Time to get ready for the Report."

I suddenly realized the voice was Anne's, and I had a very real blotchy-crying-stain-concealing-session ahead of me. I snapped to attention, throwing myself up from my balcony floor in an attempt to find the origin of the noise of running water that was my bath.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted.

"It's no worry, Miss. We just wanted to get you ready," Mary quietly appeased

"Right," I mumbled, and let myself fall back into a miserable hush as I let the rose petals wash the stress from my body.

However, as soon as it was time to be dressed and made up, I became bitterly aware of the fact that no such stress-relieving process had been completed. I was still strung out, scared, and sad.

Somehow, I managed to look beautiful. My maids had dressed me in a deep purple evening gown. The top was covered in light purple lace and matching beads, fashioned to cover the necessary and still look gorgeous, while the bottom – starting at my high waist – flowed out serenely until it touched the floor.

I had to hold in a gasp when I looked at myself. It wasn't the first time I said it, and it wouldn't be the last; my maids were blessings. While I quietly admire their strength, they continued to style my hair in brilliant curls framing my face. They added a touch of makeup – enough to make me look like the happiest person alive without looking like a Barbie. How perfect.

That's when I made my vow. No matter how bad I felt, I wouldn't give up on my image. Even if Maxon had practically tossed me aside – into a stream overloaded with crocodiles – I would stand up and shine. I would do it for Lucy, Mary, and Anne. I would do it for my family. I would do it for the Fives.

I would do it for the redheads.

So I left my room in an excellent flair of confidence, the brightest I'd seen since Maxon's refusal, and I told myself I didn't care.

I nearly fell apart when I had to hide around a corner and wait while a flirty Maxon and kiss-happy Kriss basically bounced into the room where the report was taped. But I told myself, "No, America. Stand up and shine. Easy."

I repeated it – stand up and shine, stand up and shine, stand up and shine – in my head like a Mantra as I walked up and took my seat beside Celeste on the stands.

Ever since Celeste's recent change of heart, all the girls had been happier. We didn't have the stress of sabotage to add on to that of competition and of love and power. It gave the room a light cheer that I noticed had never been here before. And it made this all easier on me as well.

"What's gotten into you?" Celeste prodded playfully. Obviously she had noticed my own change of heart as well. "You never even told me what made you all sad and droopy and now you're all better?" Celeste mockingly gasped, and whispered. "You did it with Maxon, didn't you?"

I nearly choked on…nothing. "I most certainly did not," though I almost wished Maxon liked me enough to even think about that. "And I was not all sad and droopy.

"You were," Celeste spat with a teasing glare. I was.

But I didn't have time to shoot her a friendly, sarcastic retort because the lights dimmed and the video cameras clicked on. I put on my serene face and thought stand up and shine. For the redheads

"Happy Friday, Illea, how has your week been? Well, that's today's Selection topic!" Gavril announced and I had to suppress a groan. "I just can't wait to see how the girls have been holding up with this new addition…" Gavril wiggled his eyebrows at the camera.

"But first," he paused for dramatic effect. "To our Prince, ladies and gentlemen!" Seeing as there were no prior announcements on war progressions or budget disagreements, I could only guess there were none.

"Dearest Prince Maxon," Gavril cooed, leaning up against the royal bar-table-looking-thing the family had in front of their chairs. "Do tell us about your recent decision to bring back these lovely five ladies: Celeste Newsome, Elise Whisks, Anna Farmer, Hannah Carver, and Lyssa Bow?"

I already knew that answer, and I didn't want to hear Maxon's cover story, so I tuned out. I also knew why each girl was brought back. Celeste and Elise were part of the Elite. Natalie was absent because she was still morning her sister's tragic death. Anna had been kicked out because of Celeste's goading, which then lead to a nasty fight between the two, but Maxon – being Maxon – thought Anna deserved a second choice. Lyssa and Hannah were Fives. Like me.

The message on the last two was loud and clear. Maxon could have anyone he wanted. I wasn't special. I was replaceable.

Gavril continued interviewing the prince, and I waited for a time when I would be needed. That time came very quickly. "Okay, the interviews! We'll start with…Lady America Singer, shall we?" Gavril said.

Instinctively, I looked to Maxon. Surprisingly, he was looking back at me. There was no hate in his expression. He was watching me. It was as if he was trying to assess a kind of truth. Like he thought I may have told him a lie. But like I said, his expression wasn't intimidating, hateful, or even angry.

Eventually, I sat in the chair across from Gavril and prepared for extensive emotional exhaustion.

"So," Gavril began. "Tell us. How tense have things been with this recent development in the game?"

Very tense, I thought, but not for that reason. "Actually, I think it's been better. Yes, there's more competition, but I think I speak for all of us when I say it's been relieving to have some friends back with us." Perfect.

"Interesting. And the prince may have mentioned – at one point or another – that you weren't feeling well. Are you doing better now? How do you feel?"

How do I feel? Miserable. Heartbroken. Lonely. "Excellent," I lied. "Thank you, Gavril, for asking. Yes, I must have caught some bug, but I'm much better now."

"That's wonderful news; I'm glad to hear it. I must ask, how do you feel about your relationship with Maxon? Our inside men haven't been catching a lot of activity between you two. Been meeting a lot in secret, have we?" Gavril winked a little as he said it.

An ice pick was driven brutally through my heart. Don't I wish… But I couldn't say that. "A girl never tells."

I was extremely satisfied with my performance. It seemed Gavril was, too, because he sent me back to my seat, and continued to call up girl after girl. I didn't pay attention to those interviews, mostly because I didn't want to hear their gushy Maxon-make-out stories.

Later on, however, something caught my attention. I got a warm, glowing feeling inside me, like a romantic candle had been lit in the depths of my heart. Maxon.

I had felt his gaze on me, and when I turned to look, sure enough. There he was. But the funniest thing was happening…Maxon was smiling. At me. Yes, it had been to my back, but me all the same.

Maxon then seemed to realize he'd been caught, so he looked away hastily. Disappointed, I looked away too.

Five minutes later, the last interview was coming to a close. I gazed nonchalantly at the exit. My heart was clamped in an iron, icy fist. I wanted to be out

Once again, I looked at Maxon. He wasn't looking at me. But he was looking at someone. Then…Maxon reached up quickly and tugged his ear.

I was confused. He wasn't looking anywhere near my direction. Was he…lost? Then – Oh, no. No, it couldn't be.

I watched, paralyzed in absolute horror, as Kriss reached up to tug her ear back.