[I hope this makes it all better, if you did hate me after that last chapter. Please keep up the comments; they make me feel generous!]

Gloria Garcia threw her reading glasses down and pushed away from her desk. She knew she should have gone home hours ago, but first: What was the point now that it was an empty home? – and second: This was important. She had to understand the implications of what she was reading, if she was going to be successful in nurturing this latest little plan along to fruition.

Her mother was barely talking to her these days. Since sending her son to safety in Eljida, Gloria had thrown herself into work with a fervent zeal that scared those closest to her. She couldn't care what they thought, though. Being separated from her child was a constant, unrelenting, self-imposed excoriation. The only respite would come with Integration and reunification. So she pressed on, barely eating, rarely sleeping, fighting with every fiber of her being for a day they could be together again.

She realized she had started pacing in the darkening office, and forced herself to regain control. With a sigh, Gloria returned to the old county records.

Of this much she was certain: Taylor was not the judge's daughter. There was absolutely no medical evidence linking them, even without a DNA test; Gloria thanked her stars once again for the security clearances she had been granted as part of this program. She should not have been able to access a family's medical records and yet, here she was, staring at Taylor's blood type. O negative. But the judge's blood was type AB positive. It had been a while since her last genetics class, but a little internet research helped confirm that an AB parent could not produce an O negative child. It just couldn't happen.

Maybe Marianne had been right all these years! Gloria laughed at the thought. That woman had spent nearly a decade dragging her predecessor's name through the mud at every social function and fundraising gala, all while claiming she was a neutral party and would never be caught gossiping about events of the past. In the dark emptiness of her office, Gloria allowed herself the confession: she hated that woman. Marianne tore others down instead of building them up, and Gloria had no time for such nonsense.

She would take personal pleasure in removing Taylor from under that woman's grasp. All it would take, if she had the strength, was an unavoidable phone call and an inevitable meeting. But first, back to a bit more research...

…

While there may have been historic meetings with greater stakes on the line (back in the old days of the Cold War, for example), one would be hard pressed to find a meeting filled with more tension. Neither woman was under the impression that the other was a friend; they had been subtly trying to outplay each other for too long. Gloria, knowing she finally had her checkmate, opted to be the gracious host. She held her hand out to Marianne and smiled tightly.

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice," Gloria began. Marianne sat on the edge of her chair, as if afraid some pestilence might infect her should she actually touch anything. She looked critically at the space and smiled acerbically.

"Love what you've done with the place. I hear 'Institutional' is going to be very big in design circles in a few decades," she jabbed. Gloria rolled her eyes behind the woman's back as she slid aside a panel on the bookshelf near the window. She pulled out two glasses and a bottle.

"Drink?" she offered with an arched brow.

Once the formalities were out of the way, and any pleasantries they could muster had been uttered, Gloria presented Marianne with her findings. Taylor was not the judge's daughter, as Marianne had always suspected. A Baton Rouge hospital had records showing that a little over 17 years ago, Taylor's mother had walked into their ER claiming she was raped. She gave birth nine months later, but always refused to file a report because she did not want the crime to haunt her daughter. At the time of her death in that tragic car accident, the child had effectively been orphaned.

Gloria wanted to thank Marianne and her husband for their years of kindness, serving as such wonderful foster parents. In fact, it turned out the state owed the couple some back fees – nothing extravagant, just that which was due every foster family. She would be sure the check was hand-delivered first thing in the morning. As for Taylor's future, well, she had just been declared an orphan officially. Given her age, the state would be granting her emancipated minor status effective immediately. Would Marianne prefer to discuss this news with Taylor herself, or would she like Gloria to handle that part?

Marianne's eyes narrowed.

"You can't do this to me," she answered.

"I didn't do anything to you, Marianne. You've been complaining about Taylor's lineage for years, and I merely took it upon myself, as a concerned friend, to look more closely into your claims. It turns out there was something, where I had always believed there was nothing."

"Is this because I said I couldn't support Integration?" Marianne was no longer concerned about the state of the chair. She leaned back in distress. "Jesus, Gloria, you don't always have to take everything I say so personally." She smiled, but it had the wrong effect. The woman was trying to backpedal. It was… sad.

"I really don't understand this reaction," Gloria continued, as the corner of her mouth twitched up. "I thought you would be relieved by this news." She turned to put the bottle back. Check.

"Oh! I almost forgot," she gasped, turning back and not bothering to hide her smile now, "Taylor's inheritance! Her mother was the only heir to the Langeford Estate, wasn't she?" Mate.

Marianne still had some fight left in her.

"You wouldn't do this to the judge," she whispered. "You can't. It might kill him, and on the eve of his re-election, no less." Gloria had expected this; she did truly care for the judge, who had proven himself to be an honorable man.

"Marianne, you and I both know this will be his last term. The dementia won't be so easy to disguise in another year or two. And something tells me, bloodline or no, Taylor will make sure he is always taken care of."

…

The elders were staring at the odd collection of youngsters in front of them. It was impossible to read their faces as Drake spoke, fighting to keep the fear out of his voice.

When he finished, the Vwasak elder held out his hand for the child. Drake whispered an encouragement to her and passed her over, then stepped back. Even Roman stepped away from the young warrior just a hint; it was clear that all his energy was focused on staying calm for Aria's sake. The air fairly vibrated with the force of him.

The Iwabas elder - a tiny sliver of a woman - leaned against Aria to listen, then sat back silently. She nodded at her peers but still said nothing. It fell upon the Vwasak elder to explain.

He opened his mouth to speak but after one look at Drake's eyes, paused. First he released Aria - and watched as she clambered quickly up her guardian, returning to her perch above his shoulders as though nothing had happened.

"Drake, we do not like to leave our little ones abandoned in the streets," the elder began. "I'm sure you found it as unusual as we did, that this girl had slipped through the cracks. So after I granted you temporary guardianship, I did my own investigating.

"There was a grandmother, as you know. The only one left. So many of our tribe, especially, were lost on Arrival Day; for Aria's family, it seems the casualties were heavier than for most. That her parents found each other at all is a wonderful mystery and a gift. Unfortunately they were unable to have children." The four teens, enthralled by the elder's sonorous voice, balked at this obvious fallacy. The adults, however, glanced at each other in understanding. The elder continued.

"It can happen sometimes, that one partner is barren. In this case, it appears the fault lay with the husband. According to the grandmother's memories," he nodded an acknowledgement to the Iwabas woman, "which my dear friend was able to extract after much effort, this child's mother was quite striking. And as used to happen sometimes, before Mr. Ray Whitehill assumed leadership of the SEU, she drew the unwanted attention of a security officer." Emery and Taylor gasped in shocked understanding, but for Roman and Drake it took a moment longer. The Vwasak man sighed and tried again.

"She was raped. By a human guard. This child is the result of that crime. She is not in any way ill; she has only one heart, just as her human father does."