Timothy stood in the den along with the other family members who had already been examined. They waited. Despite the amount of people in the room there was very little chatter. Even the younger ones stayed silent with their confusion evident on their faces. No one tried to break apart the mounting tension with small talk.

The adults shot one another accusing glances, one question laying heavy in their minds: who was it.

As time went on Timothy noticed Aiva was missing. He and his wife shared a glance loaded with anxiety. Susan’s face was drawn, her freckles sticking out in high relief. There was a certain amount of space between her and the rest of the family.

Every time Timothy looked at his wife, it felt like something vital was missing from her. While she no longer wore makeup or fixed her hair, it was something more than that. He just couldn’t grasp what it was.

There was no signal, but as one they began moving towards the meeting room—leaving those too young behind. Timothy marched with the rest of them, Susan right behind him in line. There was a moment when their eyes met. He thought she was about to take his hand, but the chance passed with their gazes downcast.

Timothy kept his eyes on his shoes until they were obscured by shadows. Only then did he look up to Father on his plinth. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with what his eyes were seeing and his heart dropped.

Standing next to Father was Aiva. His Aiva. No wheelchair in sight. She was squinting into the gloom but other than that her face was its usual mask of indifference. It hadn’t changed at all in the three months she’d been at school. He heard Susan’s soft asp behind him and this time they did clasp each other’s’ hands. They stepped back into the ranks, allowing the darkness to hide them.

After the door closed behind the last member of the Core family, the room hushed.

Father wasted no time and Timothy straightened his tie before stepping forward as his name was called. He knew it would be coming. He could feel all eyes on him.

“As you can see,” Father began in a quiet but dangerous voice. “It is your daughter who bears the mark.”

Timothy did not react outwardly to the revelation. There was nothing to say. He refused to look in Aiva’s direction, nor Father’s anymore. He chose to stare at the wavering candle flame.

“Can you honestly tell me you knew nothing of this?”

Timothy still did not answer.

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“Did you hide this from me? Were you really so foolish to think that I would overlook her in my search, that she would be the stone left unturned?” Father’s voice had steadily grown in volume, though he never yelled. It echoed in the stillness of the meeting room before the shadows ate it up.

Timothy did not jump to his own defense. It would be useless. A cold hand slipped into his. Though startled he kept his eyes trained on the taper.

Susan’s voice was strong and relayed nothing of the tremors that were vibrating into him. “Father what would my husband possibly gain by hiding this? If not for his idea the mark would not have been found. Without his hard work it would not have—”

Father was shaking his head, and that was enough to kill her voice. “The both of you shame me. You had the Scroll’s power beneath your very noses. Even if this was kept from me unintentionally, it is a grave mistake and the last one I will tolerate from the two of you.”

With a single gesture of Father’s hand the room itself seemed to spring into motion; people stepped forward still partially hidden by the tenebrosity. Many hands snatched and grabbed at their clothing. Susan cried out in surprise as she fought. She twisted her torso and kept her grasp tight on her husband, but her fingers were slipping. For a second he fought for her as well but when he looked up to Father he knew it was pointless and succumbed.

“You bastard!” Susan spat, tears running down her face. She clawed viciously at her holders but more joined to subdue her. She turned crazed eyes to her daughter, hand reaching. “Please, Aiva my darling! My baby girl! Please help us! Do something!”

A sob escaped her throat and a look of disgust passed over Father’s face. Timothy looked instead to Aiva. For the first time he was seeing an expression from her; with widened eyes her horror was obvious. Her mouth hung open, hands clenched and shaking stiff at her sides. Her legs were bent as if she were ready to run. Or collapse.

Timothy’s breath caught in a silent cry of his own—not for himself, but for her. This was a side of the family she was never supposed to see. A side of him she was never supposed to know.

“Why didn’t you tell us about the mark? You stupid brat! Why did you do Nothing? Why do you always do Nothing? We have given you everything! Aiva!”

A slap echoed across the room and silence once again settled. Susan’s cheek stung red.

Father had stepped won from his podium. “you no longer have the right to speak to Aiva.”

“Why is she here Joshua? She doesn’t need to see this.”

The people who held Timothy swiftly let go.

Father turned to him deliberately.

Timothy had not meant to find his voice, and it quickly deserted him again.

“Because she needs to witness her parents’ weakness so it does not become her own. To learn from your mistakes.” Father paused. His next words rang final. “You are no longer welcome in this meeting hall.”

Father raised his voice to be heard over Susan’s wail. “Your daughter no longer lives with you. You who coddled her. Nurtured her faults. Without you we will raise a true Corelyn—"

Father didn’t get to finish. Timothy had thrown himself at Aiva. It had been to save her—though he had no plan. Hands reached out to restrain again, rougher this time. Stronger. Faces flashed before his eyes, family members with taunting smiles, sneers that flashed their superiority against the hard edge of gnashing teeth. They threw him bodily from the room.

Susan stumbled over him. He lurched to his feet and turned, only to have the door slammed in his face before he could do anything more.