I gritted my teeth. "I grew up in Paris. My parents went to the circus with me...they took me while mama and papa and I were looking for a the main tent. I saw the ringmaster drag them away too...but I never saw them again. I found out later that there was a reason they only take children. The mutations kill adults." I hid my face in my hands as I remembered my mother's laugh, high a pure, cut off by a velvet covered hand and my father's joyful smile and that crinkle in the corner of his eye turn to fear as the same hands grabbed his waist and pulled him away. I remember when I had been in the white room I had gone off and explored. I had found two mangled human bodies, grown-ups who had been cut up and maimed beyond recognition. I had run back to my room and cried, though I didn't know who the bodies were until after my operation. Mom and Dad.