I was awoken by Lady licking my face, I moaned, "five more minutes."

Lady barked and I groaned, "Okay, I'm up." I rose out of bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Lady jumps off and sat at the foot of my bed, waiting for me. "I'm coming," I muttered.

I take a moment to glance at the window; the rays of light were low and slowly rising. Is it still morning? I looked to my clothes, I was still in my simple black dress and it was covered in winkles.

I walked out into the hallway and found Mom, Dad, and Grandma in the living room below. All of them drinking hot coffee or tea and wearing casual clothing. I must have slept through yesterday, I yawned.

Lady ran down the stairs and I followed, "Should I say 'morning'?" I joked as I sat into the love seat across from Dad. Mom and Grandma sat on the couch, sharing worried glances with one another.

"Well, it is morning, of the next day," Dad said as he drunk from his mug.

"So it's the weekend, yay," I said in monotone.

Mom breathed in nervously, her words were forced to be casual. "Ella and Daniela brought over your school work you missed this week. I mean it's not much but its best to be on top of things."

"How long did you know?" I asked, straightforwardly.

Awkward silence filled the room, till Grandma said, "Oh come on now. You two knew this day would come. Tell her."

Mom sighed, "We knew since you were six. When you became very sick and couldn't get out of bed."

I remembered this; it was in the middle of the year 2007, where I collapsed during my soccer game due to a high fever. Mom and Dad thought it was cold, till I started throwing up and couldn't hold any solid food down for weeks.

"John Senior fasted and performed native medicine practices on you, but you only got worse. We begged your grandfather to let us to take you to a hospital," Mom continued, "but he refused, over and over again." Mom was blinking away tears from the memory and Dad joined in.

"He said that the hospital wouldn't help and it would only lead to trouble. But you began to have high fevers and cough out blood. We feared the worse and I confronted Dad. I used the hospital as a threat to get him to confess.

"He told us of Alfred and who he was, and who you were," he shook his head, "we thought he was crazy; till he slit your wrist in front of us."

I stopped him there, "I don't remember that."

"I'm not surprised, Sweetie. You were in and out of consciousness the whole time," Mom added as she wiped her eyes.

"We watched as your cut healed magically, not even leaving a scar." Dad continued, "My father said taking you to a hospital wouldn't help and that the reason you were so sick was because of the Recession. Once the economy got better you would too."

"Of course there was that small chance," Mom said, her voice holding back a sob. "You could've disappeared like Alfred," tears fell down her cheeks, "You were so small Amy, your body couldn't handle it at times. I," she paused to release a cry, "I thought that every time you coughed, or threw up, or ran a fever it would be your last and you would be gone."

Grandma hands her a tissue and Mom took it gratefully. I rose from my seat and sat next to her. I wrapped my arms around her as she pulled me to her chest, whispering loving words in Spanish and running her fingers through my hair.

She held me for a minute till she placed her hand on my cheek and gently craned my neck up to face her. "I don't care if you're a country Amy, you're my daughter and that will never change."

I wanted to say, 'I love you', but a lump in my throat prevented me from speaking. Instead I placed my head in the nook of her neck and held her tighter, she knew I loved her.

Dad came in and circled his arms around us, holding us both close to his chest and whispered, "Amy, you will always have place in our hearts."

I smiled and hugged them, "And all of you will always have place in mine."

After we released our feelings for one another and parted back to our separate seats. It took us a couple of minutes to get back on track.

"So," I sighed, "Does Melissa and Johnny know?"

Mom nodded, "We told them after your grandfather told us."

"They thought we were crazy too," Dad smiled, amused.

"Did you slit my other wrist to prove it?" I asked, joking.

"That's exactly what we did," Grandma said bluntly.

"Why did I bother to ask," I mumbled sarcastically. Then I added in all seriousness, "Does Sanjay and Celine know?"

"Yes," Dad answered, "they noticed small things, like when you would fall off your bike and scrape yourself and in the next minute it would be gone."

"Or that time you fell off the jungle gym and broke your arm," Mom shook her head, "Sanjay was watching you that day and called an ambulance, but when they got there your arm wasn't broken."

"Poor man looked like a fool that day," Grandma said as she sipped her tea.

"Melissa had to tell him after that," Mom sighed.

"Celine took it surprising well," Dad added.

"Okay, what about Blair and Blake?"

Grandma sighed, "The boy knows, for he has the Sight. Blair on the other hand knows you're special, we'll explain it to her when she's older."

"Wait-wait, Blake has the Sight?" I asked, surprised.

Mom and Dad shared a look, and I narrowed my eyes, "you knew."

"If we had explained, you would have figured out that you were different. We just told Blake to watch what he said around you," Dad explained.

"So does that make him magically?" I asked.

"Something like that," Grandma answered.

"Does anyone else know?"

"Just you, us, your siblings and their partners," Mom stated.

I nodded, "then that has to be the same thing with me right?"

Mom, Dad and Grandma shared concerned looks, "not exactly," said Dad.

"My parents know," Mom added.

"Wait. Is that why I spent a year in Hawaii?"

"Dad wanted to teach you Native Hawaiian traditions." Mom proclaimed.

"What about Uncle Alex?"

"Oh no, my brother can't keep a secret to save his life. Besides he and his children don't visit often, there was no reason to tell him."

"So it's just the family and Kupunakane and Kupunawahine," I stated.

Mom, Dad and Grandma share uneasy looks with one another.

"That is all, right?"

Grandma sighed, "Get the list."

Thirty minutes passed and I found myself knocking on the front door of the Russo's home.

Michel answered the door; he wore jeans, a dark green tank top and his dark curls were in a mess. He always preferred to sleep pass noon on weekends.

"Amy," He yawned as he rubbed his green eyes with his hand, "What are you-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I slapped him on the arm, repeatedly.

That woke him up. "Ow! What was that for?" he whined.

"For not telling me I was country!"

His eyes widen, "You know?"

"Yes! And it turns out I was late to the party!"

"Amy I'm sorry but Mr. Hawkfeather said we couldn't tell you till you watched the video. You did watch the whole thing, right?"

"Yes I watched all of it, and yes I talked to my family and had heart to heart moment with them. But what really pissed me off was," I pulled out a sheet of paper from the back pocket of my jeans, "this! A list of everyone that knew I was a country before me, not just my family, but yours and Jamie's and my tutors! Does the whole town know?!"

"Amy, it's just us and the people on the list, I swear."

I took a deep breath, "How long?"

"How long what?"

"Michel, don't play stupid with me right now." I warned.

"You mean how long I've known?"

"Yes!"

He sighed and gestured me inside, "Remember when you ran into my dad's kitchen when we were five?"

"Yeah."

"Remember when you tripped and fell on a hot pan on the floor? Your knee was practically cooked."

"Your dad shouldn't have left hot pans on the floor, wasn't it like health code violation or something?!"

"Let's not change the subject here. Point is your knee suffered second degree burns and my parents were running around like maniacs trying to help you, but when they stopped to examine you, they watched as your skin repaired itself. The dead skin peeled over and your knee was left without a scratch. We waited for your grandpa to come get you and he explain to us what you were; a country."

"Wait a minute. Is that why Gemma and Carlo started teaching me Italian?"

Michel nodded, "Yup. I mean, Amy you were already learning Spanish, French, German, and Dutch. One more language wouldn't have hurt."

"That's easy for you to say, you didn't have to learn seven languages when you were a kid, and that's including English," I said annoyed.

"Seven?"

"Jamie's family was teaching me Mandarin."

He blinked, "You know Mandarin?"

"Don't ask me to translate anything, I am terrible." I sighed, letting my temper cool till I remembered, "So you knew since we were five."

"Truthfully," he announced, "I didn't get the concept of it till we were eleven. Remember that day in the fifth grade? Where the shooting took place in that school in Connecticut. "

"The day when I broke down in class," I followed.

"Yeah," he said softly, "I held you while you cried."

I gave a sad smile, "You seem to do that a lot."

He shrugged his shoulders, "You held me when I came out to you." He stated. "Being a country doesn't change the fact that you're my best friend."

Guilt consumed me, "I'm sorry I slapped you. When I get mad, I take my anger out on people and that just ain't right." The memory of Arthur under me came flooding in and I groaned, "Oh Michel I messed up so bad."

Michel gave me a worried look, "What did you do?"

I shook my head, "Get in the car, I'll tell you once we get to Jamie's."

Michel brushed through his curls with his fingers as I knocked on Jamie's front door.

Her mom, Yin Chen answered, "Oh Amy and Michel, come in," she said in her heavy accented voice. "Jia is in her room, you know the way."

"Thanks Mrs. Chen," we both said in sync as we walked down the hall to the second room on the left. I knocked again and Jamie answered.

"Hey Michel," she nodded to him, and then turned to me. "Oh Amy," she wrapped me in her arms. "How are you? Feeling any better?"

"I'm fine and by the way, I know." I said as I pulled out of her hug and walked into her room.

She knitted her brows in confusion as she closed the door behind us, "Know what?"

I rolled my eyes, "Are you messing with me or do you seriously don't know."

Michel whispers to Jamie but still loud enough for me to hear, "She knows that she's a c-word."

"C-word? Really?" I asked.

Jamie gasped, "Already? But I thought she had to be eighteen?"

"I guess there was a change in plans," Michel shrugged and gave me a side-way glance.

I sighed, "I know why there's been a change in plans."

Both of them took their seats on Jamie's bed as I took mine at her work desk. I told them how I met Arthur, Francis and Matthew in New York, and how they tried to tell me I was one of them. How an electric shock somehow told me that I was meeting a country. Why I ran away from Ludwig and Feliciano and how Arthur and his friends came to my house to give me a 'scholarship,' (I made sure to use air quotes and sarcasm when I used the word) where I found Arthur next to Grandpa.

"I just saw him . . . lifeless on the floor and Arthur was right in front of me, trying to say something but I was so . . . Angry. I just," I sighed, "I tackled him to the ground and started punching him in the face till he spat out blood and had to be dragged out the house."

Michel and Jamie gave me horrified expressions.

"You mauled Britain?!" exclaimed Michel.

"Oh God. Amy you could've started a war!" said Jamie.

"You think I don't know that! I'm scared out of mind!"

All three of us took a minute to breathe till Jamie asked. "What do we do?"

"I need you guys to help me find his briefcase. It's at my house; I think Mom put it somewhere." I explained. "It has have a business card or a number or something in it; will you guys help me look?"

Michel and Jamie shared a look and nodded.

"We got nothing else better to do." Michel said as he walked out the door.

"Let's go stop a war that Amy started," Jamie said as she followed him.

"I didn't start a war." I bit my lip nervously, "Hopefully."

I drove twenty miles over the speed limit to reach my house. Both of my parents' cars were gone, meaning Mom was at the nursery home doing her rounds and Dad was at the south branch office for the Los Padres National Forest. Luckily for him the building was now ten miles away from Summerland, allowing him to be closer to home.

We speed walked through the front door and found Grandma in the living room reading, The Lais of Marie de France. She looks up, "Where's the fire?"

"Grandma did you see a briefcase?" I asked as my friends searched through the living room.

Grandma takes a moment, "No. Why?"

"Because Amy needs to contact the owner so she can stop a war that she started in the first place." Michel said as he looked behind the hall table.

"There's no war," I said through gritted teeth.

"Yet," Jamie added as she looked under the coffee table.

"Are they talking about the young man you attacked?" Grandma asked.

I nodded shamefully, "Yes."

"Why would that cause a war?"

"Grams he's a country. Britain."

"Britain? I think John told me about him, but he was the only one that ever knew what he looked like."

"What does Britain look like?" Michel asked, curious.

"Um," I took a moment to think, "He's a little taller than me, shaggy blond hair, green eyes, and has the largest eyebrows I have ever seen on a person."

"Eyebrows?" Jamie gave me a confused look.

"They practically cover his entire forehead," I admit, I might have been exaggerating, but they were pretty massive.

"I think I've found it!" Michel called as he pulled out a briefcase from the hall closet.

"Awesome. Bring it over," I gestured towards the coffee table as Jamie and Grandma joined us. Michel sets the case on the table and tried to click it open but it wouldn't budge. He bends down and narrowed his eyes around its rim. "Aw man it has a combination lock."

"How many slots?" Jamie asked.

"Four." He answered

"Okay, well each of those slots can range from zero to nine. We can make a list of the various number combinations starting with zero and work our way up. If we start now we might be able to crack it within a week." Jamie explained.

Grandma must have walked into the kitchen while Jamie was talking, because the next thing I knew, she was handing me a knife. "We don't have a week."

"Thanks Grandma," I took the knife, stabbed it through the lock and forced it open.

We scanned through the papers, "What's this?" Michel wondered as he flipped through two pages with my name on it. He reads it and holds back a snort, "Amy, what site did you steal this from?"

I snatched the paper out of his hand and skimmed through it. "What the hell? It's an essay about how I care about politics?"

"Did your mom really buy that?" Jamie asked sarcastically.

"And what is the Student International Society?" I asked.

"I can't find a website," Michel said as he checked his phone.

"They make up a society and they don't even bother make a fake website to it," I shook my head; dumbasses.

Jamie searched through more papers, lifts up a rectangle sized piece of paper and gasped.

"What is it?" Grandma asked as she looked over Jamie's shoulder. Her eyes widened and she muttered a Cherokee prayer.

"Can I see," Michel takes the piece of paper, glanced at it and cried out, "Sweet Mary Mother of Jesus!"

"What?!" I pulled the paper from his hands and froze. It was a check for eight hundred thousand dollars addressed to me.

"Way to go Amy you almost killed a guy for giving you a shit load of money." Michel snorted.

"It's not for her," Jamie proclaimed as she roamed through more papers and read a sheet. "It was a payment plan to pay for your education. That," she points to the check, "is the first paycheck."

"For a year?" Michel asked.

"For a semester," Jamie answered.

My eyebrows rose, "I'm guessing it won't go towards my dance school."

Jamie shook her head, "The contract states the money would pay for a master's degree in US Government and Political Science and a minor degree in World History."

"Goodbye sweet cash, we knew thee well," Michel mocks sadness as he slowly reaches for the check.

I rolled my eyes and threw the check back into the briefcase, "I won't be brought."

Finally after a few minutes of searching we found a business card with Arthur Kirkland's cell number on it. We all share some cheers but I quickly found myself just staring at the card.

"What are you waiting for? Call him." Michel exclaimed.

I sighed, "What do I say?"

"'I'm sorry' would be good," Jamie added.

"I know that! But it can't be done over the phone; he deserves my apology in person." I began to rubble, it's what I usually do when I'm freaking out or nervous. "But how could I get him to meet me? He must hate me or planning to jump me or-"

"Amy," Grandma placed a hand on my shoulder and gestured me to face her. "I was going to wait till you were eighteen but you need this," she held a silver ring with a hawk on it. The hawk faced outward with its wings extended, the feathers were large and detailed along with the tail pointed up.

"Grandpa's ring," I proclaimed as she placed it in my palm.

"You are so much like him," Grandma smiled. "Headstrong and determined," her smile grew wider, "the sky was the limit for him and you seem to follow in his footsteps."

"But Grams this is his animal spirit, it wouldn't feel right. I'm a spirit, so technically aren't I my own spirit guide?"

Grandma chuckles, "It doesn't matter, the hawk is also a messenger of the Spirit World. With this ring you'll be connected with his hawk and any message you wish to send him, the hawk will grant it."

"Maybe you can ask him for sessions in angry management." Michel mumbled.

I ignored him and tried to put the ring on each one of my fingers. Grandpa had large hands so I wasn't surprised that the ring didn't even fit on my thumb. The ring reflected in the light, its eyes almost gleamed. Headstrong, the word followed, just a nice way to say stubborn, and we sure were stubborn Gramps. Both of us were determined to go after our dreams and in some cases, to protect our family and friends.

I looked up to Michel, Jamie, and Grandma at that moment. Michel had a bit of worry in his eyes but he still bared a grin. Jamie mouthed, 'you can do it.' and Grandma gave a knowing smile.

I took a deep breath and dialed Arthur's number.